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by Kaia
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1488740
An apology and tribute to the efforts and tribulations of my mother.
I love you
I love the way you used to hold me in the middle of the night
I love the way you tell me everything is alright
I love the way you told me everything wasn't alright
But you'd be there anyway
Side by side
Because you love me

I'm sorry for the way I yell
The way I'm always throwing, screaming, scratching
I'm sorry for the way I get in your face
I know your look did nothing to me

I blame your face for all of my problems
I blame your hair for my misfortune
I blame your glasses for my sadness
I blame your height on my misery
Although I know you never did this to me

You are the bulls eye
My anger the arrow with the poisoned tip
I string the bow and
Loose this tension


I know I cannot keep it inside of me


I know the arrow pierced you heart and your soul
Like a boomerang, it pierces mine, too
But your hair, your stupid, stupid hair
Is taunting me every time you smile at me
Every time you tell me everything is going to be okay


Just one more time
Please, mom
Won't you hold me and tell me
That I will be okay?
© Copyright 2008 Kaia (likeabutterfly at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1488740-The-Archer