The Cape

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A flash-memory about my childhood

Submitted: February 12, 2019

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Submitted: February 12, 2019



The adolescent boy that I was,

Hardly wanting to be,

As a full grown man past fifty,

Did not currently see my mother place

The expensive black cape, satin-lined in red,

Through the permanent-press cycle quite purposely.


Our washing machine clearly reading such quality material

Should be cleaned in cold water, with other delicate linen.

As the favor she did for me

After a Halloween party on the night previously.

Although, it had not even occurred to my former self

Until almost one quarter of a century later


From the memory of me, a little boy at seven,

Wanting to be a wicked witch for All Hallows Eve,

Instead of my father's idea of GI Joe,

Tarzan, Superman, or The Caped Crusader.

Only getting my way as a Mamma's Boy,

And later become no man's man in the eyes of society.


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