The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.
No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.
It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.
Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.
Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”
So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.
The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.
Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.
Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.
Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.
Dennis Mantin 
What a charming and heartfelt piece! 🌟
I love how your poem captures the journey from suspicion and unease to awareness and healing. The rhythm and playful rhyme make it feel approachable and warm, while still addressing something meaningful—family dynamics, self-reflection, and the courage to seek help. The line “Maybe something’s wrong with me?” stands out as a beautiful, honest moment of vulnerability that propels the story forward.
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