I Was CuriousA Poem by Rebekah SmithVenting out the last bits.
She was 37
Rediscovered being pregnant When there were two already calling for her love, And a few waiting for her up above. Did you walk around with slippers on Your flattened feet, just thinking of What this child would mean? You're a bruised and battered queen Drinking too many cups of tea And I love you. The hair atop your head Could've been blonder then And it makes me wonder Why did you become a mother? Your scars weren't even healed. Now filled with the child of another, You realise that this is real. I can't judge your decisions, And I don't want to try All I want from you Is to understand - why? She's now 57 With two less to depend on And a history that's filled with black & red, Wish it could be happiness instead. I couldn't make your heart okay, Or rub marks of the past away Just say you don't hate me. Is there a way to make you see... Repay the debt you owe to me - But I still love you! Remember I'm still here I cannot just disappear And I wonder Why did you become a mother? Your scars weren't even healed. Lost one child after another, Refused to believe it was real. I can't understand your decisions; You refuse to let me try. So I want nothing from you... Please just live a happy life. © 2017 Rebekah SmithAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on January 28, 2017 Last Updated on January 28, 2017 AuthorRebekah SmithBristol, South-West, United KingdomAboutThis is an extrememly hard box to fill, so my idle mind will leave it to your creative one. more..Writing
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