A shoestring girl
Curled up in an attic
Who’s remembering a family
That’s picture-perfect
Using the dust
To form a father
A lively one
Who’s supportive
That hugs a doll
Made of scraps
A mother
Who loves
Without condition
That’s always scolding
Two brothers
A pair of woodchips
Who run all-day
On a concrete drive
Which lays in front
Of a cookie-cutter
Home
Whose neighbors laugh
And play outside
Where everyone smiles
Free of worries
About the future
Or what will change
Because the memories
Of that shoestring girl
Were morphed to be
Picture-perfect
Through an adolescent
Mind
Full of ignorance