Behind the shadow of my mother’s past,
I felt the pain of what she had become.
Left with four children she had to think fast.
A forced happiness in the day, gruesome

By the night, a painted face topped with red
Lipstick, she tucked us in and soon was gone.
Little did we know, she too was in bed.
This is the story of my mother’s con.

A smile never left her face but we
Knew that pain swam behind her eyes all day.
Eventually we knew she would flee
And secretly I knew that I would pay.

Now in the shadow of my mother’s past
I pray and hope that this life will not last