Noisy, unneeded, abundant.
Kinda sounds like a grasshopper to me.
At least that’s what his whiskey stained lips
Tell me and my mother
Every nine to five
And every five to nine.

Slow, witless, stagnant.
Kinda sounds like a slug to me.
At least that’s what I’ve gathered from the heart wrenching pain
When all my sisters packed up their cardboard boxes
And left me behind.

Blood sucking, unproductive, useless.
Kinda sounds like a mosquito to me.
At least that’s what I’ve gathered from her lips
As she downs the prescription that changes my mother into a stranger.

Hardworking, passionate, and selfless.
Kind of sounds like a bee to me
At least that’s what the doctors and shrinks tell me.
While I'm trying to save my family
In an effort to save my sanity.

Loved, blossomed, enticed.
Kinda sounds like a butterfly to me.
Because time had passed and the meds and drinks got flushed down the drain.
I found all the apologies and presents that present years had abstained.
I finally found a place to love and a place to stay.