First Son

In my culture

the first son requires a strong back,

to carry the weight of familial expectation,

it is a heavy sack,

so to bear it, he should be tall,

his feet should be strong,

and long,

and thick like the palm wine trees,

his mind should be a fortress,

harder than stone,

harder than bone,

his hands should be rough,

his body, well toned,

he should be eager to lead,

eager to spread his seed,

and he must be ready at all times

to become his father.

I am none of these things;

the weight threatens to break my back,

I stagger,

like a camel awaiting the final straw,

my short feet are weary,

and thin like the leaves on the palm wine trees,

and the walls of my mind, breached,

my hands are soft,

my frame,

slender and meek,

I prefer the crowd to the podium,

I exercise self restraint,

and I will never become him.

I exist in defiance.

Reviews

[MomzillaNC]

A stark statement of the reality that others' expectations can't be our goal in life.

As poetic form, I'd capitalize the first word of each line. These aren't exactly sentences as they are steps on a journey. The form guides the reader along on the journey to follow where you, the poet, lead.