If grandpa can lance dragons from his hand
And papa can emit explosive spheres
And brother can bend minds to his command
And mama can manipulate through tears —
I wonder why the brutal genes bequeathed
Don't serve me as they've served each ancestor.
My elders can't expect me to complete
Their lethal legacy that I abhor.
With every heart I seize, I'm more adrift,
Bewildered by the bitterness it breeds.
I'm hoping to professionally shift
To anything that feeds more than it bleeds.
I've lived too long beneath volcanic smoke;
It's time the sun shone through and I awoke.