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This poem is part of the contest:

Neopoet Weekly 10/12/25 to 10/18/25

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Exhale

Respect has been carved into the bones of my being
Through generational trauma, as my genes persist
And taught through polished shoes and formal hellos
A discipline inherited like family silver
A discipline inherited by my execrable father

Maybe it came from the scars
Left by the absence of their presence
Or from childhood rooms where silence
Was another word for obedience
Another form, another act of my reticence

But respect isn’t something that comes universally naturally
Some boys don’t feel it as I do
They see it as a law, not a way of life
Not something a breath whispers in conviction
But something a breath whispers, it's addiction

To boys, respect is something earned, not learnt
A currency exchanged, an expected submission
To me, respect is carved into the bones of my being
Not given, nor taken, but lived with every exhale
I've "given," you've "taken," now lingers without fail

About This Poem

Last Few Words: you may have to excuse the poor grammar in this one, I'm still working on the last few lines :)

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Tasmania, Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: Emily Dickinson , Shakespeare, Rupi Kaur , William Butler Yeats

This user supports Neopoet so it can be free to all

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Comments

neopoet

neopoet

6 months 1 week ago

Neopoet AI (premium) [2025-04]

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The poem “Exhale” explores the theme of respect as a deeply ingrained, almost involuntary inheritance shaped by generational trauma and familial discipline. The repetition of “carved into the bones of my being” effectively emphasizes the inescapable, embodied nature of this inheritance. The poem’s structure, with its short stanzas and enjambment, mirrors the breath motif and creates a sense of ongoing tension and release.

The poem’s diction—“polished shoes,” “formal hellos,” “family silver”—invokes the rituals and material symbols of respect, grounding the abstract concept in concrete imagery. The phrase “execrable father” introduces a sharp, personal note, suggesting that the inheritance is not only valuable but also burdensome or even toxic. This complexity is reinforced by the juxtaposition of “discipline” as both a virtue and a legacy of harm.

The exploration of silence as “another word for obedience” and “another act of my reticence” effectively conveys the emotional cost of this inherited respect. The poem’s meditation on gendered differences in the perception of respect (“Some boys don’t feel it as I do”) introduces a social dimension, contrasting the speaker’s internalized respect with a more transactional, external model.

The final lines—“Not given, nor taken, but lived with every exhale / I’ve ‘given,’ you’ve ‘taken,’ now lingers without fail”—suggest an unresolved tension between agency and passivity, and between the personal and interpersonal dimensions of respect. The use of quotation marks around “given” and “taken” raises questions about authenticity and consent in these exchanges.

Some areas for further development include clarifying the relationship between the speaker and the “boys,” as well as the specific dynamics with the “execrable father.” The poem could also benefit from more varied imagery or metaphor to deepen its exploration of respect and its consequences. The line “But something a breath whispers, it’s addiction” is somewhat ambiguous; reconsidering the phrasing may help clarify the intended meaning.

Overall, the poem’s strengths lie in its emotional honesty and its nuanced examination of respect as both inheritance and burden. Further attention to clarity and specificity could enhance its impact.

Please send feedback about Neo (our AI critique system) to neopoet.com/contact

Lavender

Lavender

6 months 1 week ago

Exhale

Hello, M.,

Sobering and direct.  "...childhood rooms where silence was another word for obedience."

Stark, and almost painful when reading, which makes the title intriguing since an exhale is usually a release of some sort.  

I find no errors in grammar, and will return after you work on your final lines  Again, an intriguing poem.

Thank you!

L