Family Ties

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I watch from the corner,

a Christmas party in full swing.

And I, ever most the loner,

sip my wine quietly, studying the family I was

born into.


The family I love to hate,

for they do not understand

who I am.

Yet know me better than anyone.


Off to the side in the low light,

I watch the ones I call family.

I toast to them and laugh at their antics,

I am more a part of them than part of my blood.


What makes a family?

I surely don't know.

In a matter of days, months, even

a year;

I'll be long gone, off to start anew.


What makes a family?

Surely I don't know.

But I'd take the ones that make me laugh,

over the ones that make me cry.

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