Baby Girl

Baby Girl

A Poem by Mariana Silva
"

Poem about rather rocky mother/daughter relationship

"

You may not believe me,

But mom, you really have to try,

Trust in me, and know,

I’ll always be your baby girl.

All these years, there’s just one thing I wanted you to see.

It hurts when you aren’t with me when I cry,

And when you scream, my faith falls so low!

Mommy, am I still your baby girl?

 

Oh, if only you would understand,

I’m not out to break your heart.

Mommy, please, I’m praying you can see the truth,

That still, I remain your baby girl.

Please pay attention, when its your attention I command!

Let me finish what I start,

Especially when I try to tell you the truth.

Mommy, I’m always going to be your baby girl.

 

The beatings, your constant rage,

None of that matters or affects what I feel.

Mommy, please don’t push me away,

I just want to remain your baby girl.

Its hard to believe, that even in this day and age,

That without you, I just can’t deal.

Mommy, please, just for today,

Let me be your baby girl.

 

You call be a liar,

Beat me until I can’t see anymore,

And worst of all, ignore my pleas.

Mommy…is it safe to be your baby girl?

When you’re angry, my soul feels like its on fire,

I don’t even notice that my arms grow sore

Even though I can clearly hear my own desperate pleas.

Mommy, even so, I want to be your baby girl.

 

You throw me to the dogs,

Tell me I was a mistake,

And that its my fault we’re alone,

And still, I want to be your baby girl.

I’m treated worse than those dogs,

And I’m not sure just how much more I can take.

Growing ever wary of any agitated tone,

I continue wishing, I was still your baby girl.

© 2008 Mariana Silva


Author's Note

Mariana Silva
Honest opinion?

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

131 Views
Added on July 29, 2008

Author

Mariana Silva
Mariana Silva

CA



About
Love to read and write, so much in fact, there isn't a place where my journal and pen have not followed me because you never know when something will spring forth to be written. Not a prodigy but some.. more..

Writing
Honest Honest

A Poem by Mariana Silva