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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1768976-MOTHER
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1768976
Mother creates "funny" story. This may not have happened to you but it happened to me.
For years you joked about it.
But I was just a little kid.
You'd play around and say you weren't my real mother.
How was I to know any different?

Laughing or not,
I came to believe I wasn't part of this family.
You'd tease I was dropped off at the door 
By a mother who must've been a whore.

To you it was just fun and games,
But I was just a little kid.
I felt unattached and unwanted.
How was I to know any different?

It's too late now,
As you try to console and make things right.
Giving me lines of truths or lies,
It is too late now.
For how can I know any different?

All I know is what you told me;
I was stranded by my mother,
Given to a stranger to take and oversee.
But now your laughter is gone,
And you swear it was you that birthed me.

But now it is too late.
No line you feed me
Can fill the hole in my heart.
For I was just a little kid,
How was I to know any different?




© Copyright 2011 Itchy Water~fictionandverse (deannarich at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1768976-MOTHER