Great Going, Mother.
Don't you get it?
I did all I could.
Everything in my weakening power - just so all is understood.
Now the feeling is less than weak,
and even more so nothing left to speak.
You make me so insigificant,
like the ruler of nothing at all.
You do so well at watching me tumble and fall.
How naive of me, grasping and hoping for your hand.
All I came to, was a crashing land.
Flat on my face, you didn't protect me from the still ground.
A string of pearls represent nothing.
A foster mothers picture displays something loving.
The wish for you to be the same, has ruined all hopes of recovering again.