Mother Dearest

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 21, 2018

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Submitted: January 21, 2018



In the depths of your soul, you've buried our past. 

Secrets so dreadful you squeeze in your clasp.

A mannequin mother blown in the wind, 

From man to man, you enabled their sin.

You allowed their anger to win.

To lord over us,

To defile our bodies, 

To silence our mouths, 

To crush our spirits,

To rob our dreams.

You scorn me, you scorn me,

The seed of your eye.

You scorn me again. 

I fear I might die.

You say – "I love you."

What love is that?

Love that ignores your own child's cry!

My insides are wailing.

My heart unrepaired.

My pleas lay deaf in your ear.

You say – "Honey, you disappointed him.

We could've replaced you. 


Bought twelve girls just like you.

But when he wanted a son,

God gave him none.

No wonder he refused to name you. 

Much less behave with you. 

Doesn't surprise me,

What happened to you, happened to me."

That's some rite of passage, mother dearest. 

At the age of ten, in the dead of night.

You hand down your torch, drift out of sight.

While I struggle to breathe,

Monsters loom over me.

Punch me down on bended knee.

Leave me bruised and bloody.

You let it be.

"How could I say bye", You reply.

"My husbands needed me by their side.

I had marriage vows to abide."

What about us?

Your three precious darlings.

We didn't matter,

For you to try,

Saving us from that misery and strife.

You say – "No money, no help," 

Not good enough reasons.

You created this mess,

But you couldn't bear fleeing.

Excuses, excuses, you deny the blame. 

Excuses, excuses, you drown me in shame.

You sum up my sufferings as nothing. 

Childish whining from a childish girl. 

Why don't you weep with me, 

Talk with me,

Hug me. 

Grieve with me.

My youth was stolen by you, by them 

Horrible men,

Men you chose over us again and again.

A religion that swallowed you in.

That blinded you from your battle within.

That gave you permission to stomp out our minds.

To tell me, your daughter, I was worst of my kind.

You claim I split our family that day.

Twice for my sister who follows your way.

With spankings and rage toward her sweet little ones. 

An example you set by deciding to stay.

What a cruel game you play!

To reach for me now, after your husbands have gone.

To act like you've done nothing wrong.

You don't shed a tear.

You wish me instead to fall to despair.

Turn off my brain and pretend I don't care. 

Pretend you have so much wisdom to share.

That's the difference between you and I,

I actually want to learn how to fly. 

Spread my wings,

Soar on the wind,

Protect my child from anything. 

Show him true love.

Help him grow.

Nurture what he wants to know .

And when he's ready, I'll let him go. 

Lend my ear as he ascends, 

Off on his journey,

To become his own man.

I'll cherish him as long as I stand.

Then mother dearest, you will see what you did.

Depriving us, your three innocent kids.

Moments of joy my son will live.

I must be the one to forgive.

What a sick pill that is. 

To smile.

To rise.

To watch you pass by.

To release all my shame, my anger, my grief.

And set to the sky where I can be free.







© Copyright 2018 Joy Shaw. All rights reserved.

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