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Half Baked Poetry - Pt. 7


My name is Zera and I'm a creative. Two years ago I hit a severe writer's block. I've been sharing with you the half written, half baked poems I created in these two years. Below is the final poem in the series. I hope you've enjoyed my journey.

If you're a creative person and you haven't been creating, you are still valid. I see you. You will create again. You will find your spark, you incredible person you. I love you family and I believe in your ability to grow and progress.


Sins of the Father

He's the only person I can duet "Lookin' Boy" with.

I hit the high notes on "soul glow" and he would hairbrush rap until we collapsed into echoes of "oh HELL no!"

I was the Luigi to his Mario and the shadow in his hand me down jeans.

A language unique to him and me, inside jokes to keep at bay the realities.

My brother bear was my rock.


I remember the day the fun stopped.

He lifted you off the ground, dangling socks.

And I watched the veins bulge in your forehead as you tried to kick him off

He was bright red. Squeezing hatred as he threatened a child over and over again.

And She watched.

Invited him into our lives before we could rightly form thoughts.

A replacement worse than the original pops.

And here we are.

In the narrow hallway of a home so desperately rocked.

She screamed.

Earthquaking ear drums in null attempts at peeling back the drunken rage.

And I watched.

For a moment, maybe more.

I glanced at the door


I was frozen

in the



of fear.

When he finally let go, your black boy joy turned to silent tears.

Your bedroom door was closed more often.

She allowed him to place white roses on your innocence's coffin.

The little peeks I got were angry and confused at best.

The military called and you left.

My unsent letters collected dust on their desk.

And the distance


I stopped recognizing you.

It was, tough.

We only spoke to each other when times were rough

How do we speak now without the bluff?

Without the façade we were raised with.

The pain and the anguish.


There’s a new life’s bliss.

A strong heartbeat like his father.

He’s getting older and growing stronger.

And you cried.

The mirror in those big brown eyes showed you love that you’ve been denied.

They showed, the missing link in both of our lives.

Love for a father.


There’s no repairing what’s been done.

I can’t fix what He has broken.

He turned protector into predator.

And provider into leech.

And despite all that, we... we learned to love.

There’s always warmth underneath the Sun.

So people, hear this if nothing at all.

You can overcome the sins of your father.

You can become great. You can love.

Breathe. Run. Laugh.

Hell you can sing off key to any song.

Just... don’t close your door.

We need you.



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