In Answer - poetry by AndyN

left arrowcentre spaceleft arrow

THE TRUE MEANING OF FAMILY

My brother knows my CD collection

and still looks at it bizarrely.


My father knows I write poetry

but still thinks I like Pam Ayres.


My mother knows my shirt size

but has enough sense to avoid my shoes.


My sister knows I love her little son

but not when he screams.


One day, he'll read this

and say I don't believe you wrote this.


And I'll answer with a wide smile

neither do I,

neither do I.