Another Mother’s day upon us,
another deluge to
fill that ocean of tears
from years gone by.
A deep sadness takes hold,
reminding me of what a
dysfunctional circus this
Life has come to be,
trying not to repeat
my own mother’s mistakes.
Hindsight is 20/20,
so they say, but
it doesn’t matter
since you can never, ever
change yesterday.
I dreamed of giving
my sons all the things
I never had, but I look
around and clearly witness
that my efforts have
often been in vain.
A mother’s heart dies
a little more each day
as it travels the path
now chosen,
and for past sins
I and my children
do most definitely pay.
Lightning and thunder
always rumbling’.
The anger and melancholy
makes one want to run
screaming and slam into a
brick wall, so as not to
feel so intensely alone.
One “special day” a year;
an insult and a joke,
meant to placate the
exhaustion and madness
Motherhood can provoke.
I hate the hypocrisy of
it all,
like a band aid on
a deep ****.
Women/Mothers,
Always doing the brunt
Of the ***** work;
We will always cry more,
worry more,
suffer and feel more.
Mocked for our sentiments
and opinions,
for our need to be heard
and taken to heart,
and tending to our
quiet rage, warranted anxiety
and fears.
The world doesn’t really care
whether or not we are
truly “happy mothers”,
the evidence tells no lies.
So, forgive my bluntness
(or not, doesn’t really matter),
but for me
Mother’s day doesn’t really
hit the spot.
Too often most forget
That the very days that
mean joy and cheer for some,
for others can bring
nothing but isolation
and pain, not understood
by the festive crowds.
I often wonder,
who creates these
“special days” anyway?
-by Mercurychyld
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