Long Unspoken Fury

How was it my fault,

Dad,

When those dime store Wallabees

Melted through the furnace grate?

How you always chided me

When I said I was afraid,

“Don’t be such a fraidy cat.”

Now you stand and seethe, enraged

Learning what I always know.

Floor grates lead to misery

And premature, stinky, deaths

For green plastic army men

And your cheap-ass knock-off shoes!

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