People that came before me

        People that came before me   

I’m made of people that came before me, My ancestors.

I curse my nose and my bad temper,

perhaps that’s what has come for me from my lineage,

My grandmother says she sees her mother in me, 

she has had the same crooked nose as mine.

I wonder how similar and simultaneously far different

I am, than, any of the people that came before me.

My great-grandmother couldn’t have been able to read,

but I do read and I can write,

perhaps I am made of what she couldn’t have become,

or what she could have if she weren’t my ancestor.

And probably, my great-granddaughter will be of everything

I am and more.

or she will be of what I couldn’t become.

It could be good or bad or both.

For all I know,

it is immense pressure to put upon the living, me, 

to live the lives of all those who are dead along with mine.

Every single breath I take is on behalf of all the souls of the dead,

that came before me and I represent them all.

Or,

 maybe they’re just my predecessors and me, their successor.

Author's Note

So, what do you think about this?

Reviews

[Inkspire]

Great poem..
We are just who we are.