Its not a poem

So I've realized

that in our family,

immediate or distant,

we are the only ones

to really leave.

Most everyone else

is still in the same

province or city

as their

parents.

And we are

thousands of kilometers

away from the rents.

Irwin and Wanda

must miss us

lots.

And feel strange

compared to other's

moms and dads.

It's like we've

abandoned them

and our childhood

for things and places

different and new.

But I wish

that they knew,

its not always

the best.

Being an adult

is just

as difficult as

everyone warned.

And being away

from former support

makes it worse.

Emotional strings

being snapped

from the lifeline

that kept us

grounded.

Left alone

to figure out

just how to

live.