MN ( / )

~the Tough Questions~

You say you wanted to talk
about our past.
You heard I've been dealing
with my own acceptance
of what my childhood actually entailed.

It seemed you loved hearing
how I view him now,
how I see what he did
and just how wrong it all was.
I could almost hear that cheshire cat-like grin
cracking through your stone-face
over the phone.

I hear the jangling of your earrings
as you nod your head in agreement
while I recount the horrors for you.
You say ''Yeah, I was horrified by it all.''
''He was sick.''
''He was twisted.''
''That's exactly why I left him! ''
I wonder if you'll still be smiling
when I ask you
WHY?

Tell me Mother....
why, when your new boyfriends
house became too crowded
with his 5 kids and then your own five,
did you take me back to my dad
and hand me over like a sacrificial lamb?

My pleading cries were ignored.
My screams to let me stay with you
were ignored.
Why, if you KNEW he was so bad...
did you give your 10 yr old daughter to him?

Don't say you want to talk
if you can't handle the
tough questions.

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Comments (10)

Oh wow..I really liked this one Mary. Reading it, it's like I can almost feel everything you must have felt when you were going through that. I think there are too many though questions out there and not enough answers. This was a great poem. -Crystal
A superbly written tearjerker. The last stanza could almost stand alone as an utterance that applies in relation to a thousand situations as well as to this particular mode of tragedy.
How many hundreds of people have said the same sort of things to me? And I'm no nearer understanding how a mother (who KNOWS) can do that. You have put the bitterness, anger, feelings of betrayal and frustration into this authentic piece of work, Mary. Love, Fran xx
The anger and anguish are quite evident - a heartrending piece, Mary. It's good to let it out in order to finally let go. Selfishness is the reason behind almost every cruel act, personal and global. Evil ensues. Hard questions must follow... they deserve answers.
It's hard to love a coward, huh, Mary? ? That love comes in fits and starts...thanks for sharing.
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