Lemons
Lemons
My mother has never liked
the taste of lemons.
They are too sour,
displeasing.
That’s probably why she doesn’t like me.
A sack of lemons, freshly
sour squeezed.
spoiled
rotten
unloving daughter.
Disappointment.
That’s okay, I don’t like myself much, either.
This poem is about:
Me
My family