Realization of Idealization

To care for their children, my big brother and me,

My parents would willingly part a raging sea,

The modern-day Byzantine icons, living, breathing saints,

A slash to my youth, their troubled life taints.


My mother, the Madonna, a woman woven in gold.

She couldn’t be mentally ill! How brash, how bold!

After years of regret, anguish, a life in Hell,

She still can’t forgive herself, come out of her shell.


She loved him so dearly, another brother named Daniel,

Forced to give him away, like a runty Cocker Spaniel.

Upon his death, her whole life was shattered,

PTSD, anxiety, depression, her mind left scattered.


My father, Superman, the man of steel,

Left a wound in our hearts that may never heal.

Taken away by police cars, a 4 year old couldn’t understand.

“Give me my daddy”, I would cry and demand.


Mind over matter, mind not on the road,

At his trial, my tears surely showed.

With prison visits, metal detectors were a must,

Even if stainless, through tears, steel will eventually rust.


I love them so dearly, I adore them still,

Through their painful lessons, rise and fall I will.

No one is perfect, a line beautifully sung,

Idealization is best left for the young.

This poem is about: 
My family


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 for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741