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Redemption, Years in the Making

My name is Paul Prince, and my mother is an addict.
                              I cradled her Addictions              and a trafficked woman  
from Ukraine
my grandmother took her in                       our home     the sanctuary 
shelter 
haven of lost causes 
                                         
Trafficked woman and I married       had three kids              and
loads of piss and vinegar bickering  
     I’m an all-day sucker

My wife is a liar      her words bloom like barbs under my skin
                                                                    we share a welted shirt
                                                                         family heirloom
I think 
                       she thinks        she uses for fun           Coney Island without the crowd

I think           
                      there are devils    who camp in her heart           
         who
                                              followed     her      from      Ukraine
                                                       another family heirloom  
she talks with Them in our sleep

I think
             I use because my mother uses                 demons live here too

On good days               I pretended we weren't Addicts        those days were minutes
On incarcerated days        I pretended I was a Victim of circumstance
                                                                                       those days      a YEAR
I want to be a Father              not a Victim
                                                       
My grandmother is hearth    roof    a hug     a full belly        a FULL HEART
a place   my kids    can live     grow up      with         just              fairies and imps

the Welted shirt         I want to burn         the Coney Island          to bury

             My liar gutted the sanctuary and shelter 
                                took the kids
                                                  disappeared     
                                       wrapped in the Welted shirt  

I think
            I must be
            determined enough
to bring    us                 beyond                the circumstance 
                                                           that fools its victims

My grandmother is a fountain of MERCY
I know
                she won't            live               forever
she needs them home             
we need them home
                                        here is clemency 
                           yards            and             yards              of        it
                  

I have a full-time job now with my uncle’s help
I'm working             on a Backbone                  my grandmother won't live forever

Inside me                           I feel a turnip seed      
                                   of hope       and     dreams
                                       HERE     a fallow field                  
                                       let hope plant its seed
                                       let hope plant its seed
                               grandmother              fountain of MERCY
                                                rain on me
                                                rain on me
                                                row by row   
                                    this life   this rancor   my dirt      
                                   turn to Green   the color of kindness                      
I think
             my kids will bury the shirt under the fountain 
             the devils           can turn                           to      birds

and     the Ukraine woman will plot    her own story
                                                          I mine


                                           My name is Paul Prince, and I am not my mother.

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