The SIck

Mother.

Might as well be a house of horrors.

Old and weak;you stand alone.

Praying not for good but for revenge.

Ignoring when you may be as cold as stone.

Coming through the door, I smell it.

The smell of sorrow and sickness.

You begged for this life to end.

And chained me to you just to witness.

Now my pride and motivation’s fled.

You drowned the only good I had left.

Taking my core and crushing it in your hands.

Leaving me hopeless with only one breath.

 

Cowering away, scared to face the truth.

A broken daughter left alone by your choice.

People pointing fingers, you just can’t stand.

Because the truth broke you down with only one voice.

 

You leave me loathing in your shadow.

Buried by the pain you seep aloud.

Putting your own seed first was never an option.

And in return I may have to eye you in a shroud.

 

I was praying the day may come for you to see.

But the life you have is diminishing so quick.

Alone I will stand in the memory of you.

Remembering you as the one who didn’t see, the sick.

Author's Note

This is life right now. Raw.

Reviews

[TTBoy28]

Talk about unconditional love. Terribly sad piece here and the imagery you have added to paper is very powerful. Although I hate to say it, good job!

[darkgurl]

Wow this is quite the powerful write here. I enjoyed reading this even though it's kind of sad.

[Terry Collett]

Moving poem, well written.