No son-in-law and no grand children.
One more half-empty glass on my shelf.
One more sign that I failed as a mother.

No fancy house, no brand new car.
Not much in my bank account.
Another sign I failed as a mogul.

No accolades, no published works
A folio relatives said was dreary.
A very clear sign I failed as a poet.

All those years and all that sweat.
And everything came up a cropper.
At least I can say I excelled at failing.
ljm