Hum soars to dreadful roar

on opening the door, late again,

to the hall that’s hung

with the drab whiff

of childhood unhappiness.

Where others- bright fish

gliding in native waters-

meet and greet and flash little white teeth.

Who, with the deftest of darts and turns,

navigate the warm shallows

bottomed with skin searing reef.

Not for them the flounder and gape

in vain for the right words or face

to bring to the gathering

of mothers who know the code;

as doomed as clutching via useless gills

for oxygen from air.

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