There’s a tired mother
Who loves her children like no other.
They’re her last faith she clings on to survive,
In her self-woven web where she cries,
Because her entrapment has left her soul weakened, cold, and bare
And the times when light enters is rare.
She’s broken away from her own family
And now she’s here by herself: small, unstable and so lonely.
While everyone bustles busily outside her confinement,
The precious hours of her life are being spent,
Wasting away in the dark, dreaming of what’s not,
Going over bad memories and self-belittling thoughts.
Now, there’s always been the helping hand,
That’s stayed in spite of her “I can’t”’s
Ready to lead her through the tangled mess
Which compiles when the hurt reaches its crest.
Yet, in her stubborn pride,
She swats away the hand that’s never left her side.
The love her children and husband offer, she doesn’t believe.
Now they’ve all given up- she’s too hard to please.
She things she does all the giving,
But doesn’t she see, there’s no need for wishing?
She’s got a husband who’s righteous, kind, and loves her,
But she spends her time being suspicious, accusing him of having another lover.
She doesn’t know her daughter cares,
And has been strained, trying to relieve her mother from the pain she bears.
She wastes her energy on the fights she starts,
But can’t she rest, let it go, end the anger rotting her heart?
In all the solitary resentment described above,
She still can’t deny, you can’t live without love.
If she doesn’t grab that hand soon,
Her last few dreams will have sailed past the moon;
It’s up to her to escape from her own, bitter web.
Let’s hope she does, at least before she’s dead,
Because you only get to have life once-
One shot, get it right
Live and love every hour, take flight!