Family Fiction (Poetry)

She didn’t like her mother much —
her father she near-hated
she’d loved her cousin, once removed
but that affair was fated.

She couldn’t stand her uncle Ted
his wife was ghastly, too —
an over-loud obnoxious type
a sly and spiteful shrew.

Her granddad seemed not quite so bad
(though on her mother’s side)
her father’s father had run off
with his half-brother’s bride.

Her great aunts were a stuffy lot —
so stiff and unforgiving
while both her grans had long ago
forgone the trials of living.

An only child, she often wished
she could become an orphan —
the thought of being family-free
was absolutely awesome.

They all clung near, though far from dear —
these linked by mere genetics
and ties of blood they claimed so close
stretched tiresome and pathetic.

As soon as she had means enough
she left — moved far away
and never gave another thought
until a rainy day...

Her diary entry for that date
triggered an old feeling —
a silly, sentimental rush
that sent emotions reeling.

Her mind meandered — wandered back
undisciplined, it found her
lingering in childhood days
close family around her

and almost happy with the lie.
Such irony unseated
all belief — her troops out-gunned
like arguments defeated.

Wiser now, the prodigal
knew truth’s sole benediction —
most ‘loving families’ as read
are more akin to fiction.