My family

A roaring engine propelling me,

Through the dark,

Through the light,

Through my greatest plights.

At a glance,

It seems nothing but a pointless dance.

On inspection,

It is a marvel of precision.

Gasoline

My Mother gives much,

Advice, motivation, and care.

Pistons

My Father as such refines it,

Giving wisdom, experience and discipline.

Crankshaft

My siblings and I turn reinforcement into result,

Learning and growing under their guidance

This clockwork,

As it may seem,

Is merely controlled chaos.

For every precise power stroke,

There is a minor flaw.

And while the engine isn’t finetuned yet,

One day it will be.