Family isn’t always blood

I have brothers from other mums
in this thick slums of ours. Mothers
whose arms smother from raging drums
teeth and sore gums. I have “bloothers.”

I’m pleased that time seems to be kind,
that strangers find our love sublime.
Then like cold lime friends will remind
one that mankind is just a rhyme.

Water and blood often don’t mix,
but when conflicts come, the goons flood
for you the mud that denied Bricks.
These little cliques, are often blood.

Younglan Louis