Just My Poetry

Laugh With Me

My dad has all these stories
He's traveled the world, a military difference,
And he's seen the wonders of other countries.
And while he's also seen the horrors,
All he chooses to tell us,
"I asked what it was,  but they just smirked."
"'Meat', they replied."
A howl.
We're all gasping.

My sisters have a way about them,
We're so obviously different in our own ways.
And often it makes a chuckle
Ripple from anyone who meets all of us at once.
But their chuckle turns mute in our ears,
The ringing of an inside joke taking place,
A joke we can't make.
Not yet at least. Not until home.
And the cackling, like hyenas,
The howls of joy, like a wolf pack,
The shouts and joyous screams, like a child on Christmas morning,
These are what makes home a laughing stock.
But not the negative kind.

My mom has worked a long time.
She cares for others,
Sometimes more than herself.
And it's hard to see her tired,
To see her stressed,
And my family gives her love,
But most of all
We give her laughs.
Put a smile on her face.
Watch her shoulders relax as she laughs.
And all of us,
We laugh with her too.
Tears down our cheeks,
Gasping for air,
Rolling on the floor.

So I thank whoever gave me this family.
The foreign stories,
About strange meats that were eaten by a fire.
The inside jokes unspoken,
But sometimes spoken in confidence.
Of the weird jokes that bring joy,
And give confidence to the life living.
And I thank whoever lived for this,
Because I'll never forget this.
My own howls,
My own tears,
My own cheshire grin that stretches for miles
After just one meal,
After just one hour,
Because any smile can be encouraged to come out,
And that's all that matters.