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Amanda Kay Burke May 2020
Mom
I am not a perfect daughter
I'm sure you agree
Your temper is hotter
I'm the reason frequently
Telling you it is only in your brain
You have a meltdown
Upset
Chalking worry up to being insane
Not what you deserve to get
Going to be an improved child
I'm completely grown
Easy to provoke and wild
Still the sweet baby you've always known
Now I am telling you I'm sorry
For excessive bitchiness and tears
Blaming you when it was me
Causing half the problems through the years
It is not easy to admit I'm wrong
Doesn't mean that you are right
It takes two to get along
Like it does to fight
It is going to take determination from both of us
It will be worth the patience to try
Maybe peace we longingly discuss
Will be reality for you and I
I cannot change this on my own
Wish you would meet me halfway
Once in awhile just leave it alone
On subjects you feel you must put in your say
You want what's best for me
Hurt because you care
One thing I've been itching to let free
"Thank you" for being there
Regardless of what flaws come between
Relationship has withstood them all
Though at times you can act mean
Petty quarrels usually stay small
So this is a token of my hidden gratitude
To show how you mean so much
Also an apology for being rude
Not keeping in proper touch
No matter how drastic our ups and downs
The thing that will not ever change
That you'll always be around
Arms open to me despite how strange
I often take that for granted
Focus on bad stuff you've done
Of all the occasions I've ranted
Not once did I mention the depth of your love
The countless sacrifices you willingly made
In order for me to do well
How my hair you'd affectionately braid
Somehow I left out of the stories I'd tell
So it is written (here in purple ink no less)
Save as proof of what's in my heart
Next time it will remind us when in distress
What is important when falling apart
Forgive me for pain I've inflicted
Lies and each mess my hand makes
Know my actions have left you afflicted
I swear I'll make up for all the mistakes
My mother's day poem
Moomin May 2020
I have been a pilot and a doctor, and a chieftain, I've run a café and a veg stall and a shop
Discovered forests down the road, and caught a magic toad, and stormed the castle high upon the mountains top
I've walked about on Mars, flown a rocket to the stars, and been to places that are yet unknown to men
And just to cap it all, to amaze you, and enthral, I did all that before I was even ten

There are no boundaries for young minds, no comprehension of time, they are eager to explore this fun-filled place
Kids are free and are unshackled, from the first shake of their rattle, they refuse to run with rats in our sad race
I grew up with simple toys, simple pleasures, simple joys, yet life was then so full and so untouched
Not ashamed of mummy's hand, or a bucket in the sand, we had so little yet, we really had so much

We grazed our knees and ruined our clothes, raced around on tippy-toes, and turned a mangy dog into our bestest friend
We camped out, we camped in, went too high upon the swing, yet we never thought the fun would ever end
Daddy's voice was law, mummy's whack was sore, and being grounded was so harsh and was so tough
But we knew that we were safe, and we knew we were secure, and we really knew our home was full of love

Children were children and grown ups were grown ups, and teenagers were somewhere in between
Bad things were small, like the punctured old beach ball, or the sadness of a melted ice-cream
Park-keepers were alert, and everything actually worked, and if we hurt ourselves, mum didn't want to sue
She would kiss it where it was sore, cuddle us some more, then we'd be off and start our climbing up anew

A boy's first kiss was his mum, and love was bubble-gum, and his first crush was simply lemon or lime
Girls were chased but never kissed, cause you deliberately missed, and names could only hurt you if they rhymed
Little girls dressed in mum's shoes, and didn't get the blues, and they'd only dance in front of cuddly toys
They loved dolls and Winnie-Pooh, playing bubbles with shampoo, and they had no time for silly things like boys

Batman was always kind, and it would never cross his mind, to **** a villain, or ever break the law
You'd always be polite, always kiss your mum goodnight, and you'd always leave your cabbage for the poor
To be gay was to be glad, being bad meant simply bad, and there was no such thing as being overfed
Phones were just pretend, and your dog was your best friend, to protect you from the troll under your bed

But this world is ever changing, with more stress and much more danger, and the children must adapt or they will fail
Where once our kids were shy, and pleasing to the eye, we are now forced to grab a tiger by the tail
Like the trickle of the stone, before the mountain crashes down, life is gaining speed at an alarming rate
They are pushed and are in pain, carry guilt and carry blame, and there is no one to shield them from their fate

Home alone, and alone away, taught how to text but not to play, they just exist within their messed up little world
Forced to survive and take the knocks, always governed by the clock, too soon they are men and women, not boys and girls
Good and bad are now retired, you can do what you desire, it's no longer sin, but a life choice for childrenkind
And is there's a price to pay for this new fun, and for looking at the sun, there's always credit, which is far off (in their mind)

Goblins and trolls have become vampires and ghouls, and Batman is a nasty growling man
The train set is no longer cool. Its trains and stations are for fools, Playstation is now the thing that makes the man
Advice comes from the web, or magazines instead, because these sources have all the answers we need to know
Goodbye to picnics, sandcastles, parks, finger-puppets in the dark, these simple joys our children now let go

Today the little ones know too much, and their knowledge is that such, they are aware of all that mum and dad now do
The facts of life, thanks to the web, terrorism's dread, ***, carcinomas and Avian Flu
Immersed in the occult, and books that teach how to insult, they spend more time with gadgets than they do with humankind
The things they watch would scare grown-ups, the door to innocence is shut, while their music feeds the anger of the mind

“No” is spoken, never heard, simple manners never learned, “Love thy neighbour” is replaced by “dog eat dog”
But they are children, not our pets, they need to love, and not regret, and they need to find the time to think of God
Like arrows that are aimed, we can steer them through life's game, to ensure they find the target that they need
That of happiness and hope, take their hand, don't let them *****, and we may yet behold the day when they are free

So enjoy their childhood years, feed the ducks, and not their fears, and if they've gone too far, help them to rewind
Let them skip, let them skate, let them even lick their plate, and the memories will be forever in your mind
And before you do regret, and your little ones forget, and this life comes and sweeps them from your door
Give them back their childish ways, and keep the world at bay, and let the children just be children once more
Peyton Sparks May 2020
A mother's love
Can take many forms:

It can be the water
So blue
Cooling you, on a hot day.

It can be the little green five
You "randomly" find
in your pocket.

It could even be the "luck"
Of catching the soft white bundle
At a wedding.

A mother's love
Can be lifetimes long...
Steve Page Apr 2020
If I
when I'm shouting
when I'm shouting in the tin-roof rain
against the stadium crowd
If I
when in the white shadow of her pain
bone marrow and head to toe
If I
fail to make myself heard
then I only have myself to blame

- I'm practiced enough
in finding a way through
through careful positioning
through forceful attention grabbing
with her head in both hands
taking her head to mine
and catching her eyes
brow to brow and toe to toe
until she knows I'm there
and that she can come back to us here
where the quiet is.
Sensory overload in children is crippling.  This was kicked off by a reading of https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46483/danse-russe .  But I went in a different direction.
High above in the clock tower
Was a child who misbehaved
Father time grew impatient
She was too difficult to persuade

For she was raised with no limits
Adopting such a life unafraid
Strolling into the timekeeper's tower
Assuming there was no price to be paid

The clock's hands restrained her
Every tic was a step she couldn't take
She was bounded by time by the hour
Creating yet another clockwork slave

The clock's hands became her cuffs
Its numbers turned all the same
To be used as the metal bars
For the finishing touches of her cage

Tamed by routines and muted by alarms
Wondering how long she had left to stay
In this fragile world that was so reliant
To act only upon the specific time of day

She missed her colourful beginnings
Free from a life that continued to age
Time stood still while she wandered
To wherever her heart was swayed

Seconds would turn into hours
Of aimless mere child's play
Were moments she took for granted
And memories she had misplaced

One day she took time into her hands
She reversed the roles to his dismay
Father time's parental grip on her
Could no longer be sustained

For she was a timeless artist
Who could not stay restrained
Whose artwork cannot be lost
In the past or the present day

Her poetic words reside in the minds
Passing generations everyday
Painting moments to only those
Who allow their hearts to give way

She became immortal through her legacy
On the path that she had paved
Making home in the artistic thoughts
Of every artist that was led astray
Nikita Mar 2020
Born with the legs of a baby deer
I sprung to my feet,
Running not from a wolf, not from a bear,
But from a young women
Who raised children with fear

I dived into the room
The one with purple walls,
closed curtains and a box full of dolls

Swallowed by the dark
I was an appetiser
For the shadows yet to come

Looming over the bed frame
Her voice distorted
Her body stretched

In a second, she switched from
A mother to a monster
One with miserable, red eyes
I am recollecting memories of my childhood. This is my series; my story.
Mrs Timetable Mar 2020
You promised to have and to hold
You lied, you took and you stole
Left five kids to go be a sinner
I hope you eat those words daily
For breakfast, lunch and dinner
To the supposed man my mother married. I won’t call him step dad.
Delaney Feb 2020
I tear myself apart trying to be the best.

every day I go and try to be loved by those around me.
my desires to meet new people are selfishly driven by the desire
to show others the good parts of who I am.

to show you I am lovable.

every accomplishment, every compliment, every good thing I do
all I think is,
"that'll show her. I'm not that bad after all."

like I have to prove myself to you.

am I going to spend the rest of my life trying to show you why you should love me? why you shouldn't have left me here?

is every intimate worry I have wrapped up in the fact that I wasn't enough to please you?

-and i still can't even blame you
Amanda Kay Burke Feb 2020
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You are my momma
I really love you

You are getting older
Hair is turning grey
It doesn't change the fact
that it's Mother's Day

I am lucky you raised me
Thank you for all you do
And no matter what
I will always love you
A poem written in a card I made for my mom many years ago.. I found it while cleaning my room.
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