To a Mother

This is a poem to a mother.

There was a girl name Court

She wasn’t that short

She rarely had any support

And she wasn’t a dork.



Oh yes there is more

She was called a whore

Oh what a bore

But she is yours.



Court is extremely smart

And she is really good at art

She has a tender heart

Her life has been torn apart.



Now she is fifteen

And she has inherited your genes

She hates to cause a scene

But she is almost sixteen.



Now Court can really sing

Her life is held by a string

No she doesn’t really like bling

But she wants to get into the ring.



At her school there is stress

Every Wednesday she has to dress

Sometimes there is pain in her chest

But she has to be a success.



It’s both high school and college at the same time

And she can’t wait til summertime

Because she is working overtime

But she is still in her prime.



Oh what will the mother do

While her daughter worked and grew

All she wanted to see her it’s true

Now she leaves with what could you do?