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In the dimming evening light,
I sit in
My room and write
And think about
All that you’ve done,
Of good and bad
The moon and the sun,
Of dark and light
Of all you’ve become
And wonder what I could have done
To stop you from making
so many mistakes,
from breaking hearts,
from love to hate,
sorrow and joy,
and back again.
What would be different,
If had I,
Back then,
Not watched and waited
As you wasted men,
And used and destroyed,
All that loved you once?
Would I look in your eyes
And still see mistrust
And decay of a mind
That once held me close?
Could I see the sadness
Or denial
Or doubt?
Would I feel your pain
Or your longing to shout,
To scream till you cry
Until your body gives out
Like I used to
when he’d smack you around
and you’d avoid my eyes,
looking at the ground?

Had I been
a stronger daughter,
to lead you when you needed,
like you did for me,
when I was hurt and conceded,
then maybe you’d have listened,
and made better choices
and at night I’d’ve slept soundly
instead of hearing your raised voices.
Maybe I’d have trusted,
When boys started to like me,
Instead of thinking about your boyfriends,
And fearing that they’d hurt me.
So many maybes,
not many answers,
I can wish and wonder all I want,
In the end it doesn’t matter.

People say a lot of things,
Judging when they shouldn’t.
Mom, I love you
And I want you to know,
I will succeed where you couldn’t.