A Long Line


I come from a long line of Scots


The kind that drink and hate


Their failed dreams


The kind that love


With hitting and name-calling


The kind that don’t change


No matter what the incentive




I come from a long line of transients


The ones that start over new


But the new is stained


With past fears and expectations


And somehow it all ends the same




My mother has begun a new line


A line of hope


A line of dreams


A line she prays every day will keep going


A line that began with her


And certainly will not end at me



Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741