These Sad Mom poems are examples of Sad poems about Mom. These are the best examples of Sad Mom poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Daddy why did you go away,
Don't you know I wanted you to stay!
Daddy, when you left mom,
don't you know you left me too.
Now all I do is cry and cry
--- I want to die!
Daddy mommy say's it's better this way,
What does she know!
There's not enough band-aids to cover up the blues
Mom's kisses can't heal this kind of pain.
Daddy, I look around
no one stands in your garage
Daddy, You took every tool
Except the hammer and sitting stool
Daddy I still miss you
--- I love you.
Dear Daddy, I'm all grown up now
Haven't seen you since I was 10
Daddy, I sit on your favorite chair,
No longer do I miss the way you caressed my hair.
Daddy, I'm taking the old hammer and this BRAND NEW saw,
it's time to patch all the holes mom punched in the wall
*The day you walked out on us*
Daddy, don't worry about the times I tripped and fell
Mom, found someone to fix the lose boards,
got tired of scraping my knees
Daddy, I finally realized I'm okay,
I agree with mom, it's better this way.
This one is totally fictional.
Don't cry little guy just 'cause you're moving away
Your daddy's got a brand new job out in Santa Fe
He's trying to make a better life for your mom and you
So, how about holding back those tears
Yes, I'm crying too
So I said goodbye to Bobby like I knew I had to do
But Some things that I told him
Weren't exactly true
I wish I could have told him to stay
If that's where he'd really like to be
I wish I could have told him the truth
About his mom and me
So, I said goodbye
And tried not to cry
And told him to have fun
I wish I could have said to him
Bobby, you're my only son.
At internet dating sites secrets are hidden
On his roller coaster of lies, Pam had ridden
Though she agreed to meet Joe in a public park
The sun had already set; it was growing dark
No families or lovers were strolling around
When Jim came from behind and pushed Pam to the ground
Pam went home and was afraid to tell her parents
In four months there was a change in her appearance
Pam left home and started living on the streets
Turning away from every stranger she’d meet
‘Neath neon lights on a cardboard box she lay
Night after night, visiting soup kitchens by day
In her eighth month she found a home for pregnant teens
As her mom endured the torment of fearful dreams
Time neared and Pam called home crying, “Mom, I’ve done wrong!”
Grateful mom said, “Dear, I’d have been there all along"
Lifting Pam up from the grasp of dire poverty
Her parents welcomed the newborn to their family
If she hadn’t made that call, Pam would not have known
The comfort she’d receive in her parents’ fine home
* Entry for Gwendolen’s “Mom, I’m Pregnant” contest.
According to Douglas J. Besharov with the University of Maryland’s School of Public
Policy, almost half of all families headed by women under age 18 have incomes
below the poverty line. This is almost five times the poverty rate of two-parent
families with children.
Gathered at the table during recess
The playground was muddy and cruddy so we had to stay inside today
All the games in the game closet were taken except this one—SCRABBLE
I knew we didn’t have enough time to play it because mom and dad used to sit at the kitchen table for hours
Hours upon hours
Lunch and supper would even pass and they would be giggling and laughing over nothing
Nothing but a bunch of corny words that folks don’t even use now days
After the game was over, they would disappear into their bedroom and giggle again for a while longer
I remembered thinking to myself, “Who is the real kid here?”
They loved this game…
Well, it was my turn
Everyone else had drawn their 7 tiles
The worn black velvet bag had only 7 tiles left
With only 15 minutes of recess to go, they kept talking and burning up the clock
Just like mom and dad used to do as though time stood still
I placed my tiles on the table hiding them from Stephen
How is it possible that I drew an entire word?
Once I drew an entire word with mom and dad when there was a snow storm
They tricked me into playing all afternoon
I drew E-Q-U-A-T-O-R and they thought it was a miracle
Their laughter filled the room and I became an instant hero
This time wasn’t so great even though I won the game in one turn
I hate this word!
A seven letter word that tore my entire universe apart
How ironic that I won with those seven powerful tiles
There is no winning in divorce
My heart bleeds
My tears rush
Stephen’s parents are still together
He wouldn’t understand the pain
All I can think of now is how much I hate divorce and how I hate SCRABBLE…
Emotional embarrassment saved by the recess bell
Written for Nancy Jones' Contest~SCRABBLE~
by Gwendolen Rix
He was standing there alone on the bridge
He must have been about twelve years old.
I asked, "What are you doing here, lad?
It's very dark and kind of cold."
"I'm not supposed to be out this late at night
But my mom and dad are having a fight
So I'm on this bridge and I don't know why
Seems like all I do anymore is cry.
You don't know what it's like
To hear the shouting every day
I love my mom and dad
But they say things they shouldn't say
I have a sister and a little brother
And we are only learning how to hurt each other.
If I was granted any wish that I could think of
All I would want is a home filled with love
Maybe my mom and dad could find it in their heart
To forgive each other and make a brand new start
Then our lives would be like they should be
And I could dump these feelings that are haunting me
Thanks, mister for listening to me talk
Can you give me a ride home. I'm afraid to walk
If you hadn't stopped, I wouldn't have seen daylight
You see, I was going to jump off that bridge tonight."
Sometimes a kind word or just listening for a few moments can make a
difference in someone's life.
Nobody knows the pain she hides,
No one cares to look inside.
This little girl that’s only nine,
Has to fight to stay alive.
Her mom’s an alcoholic,
And her daddy does drugs.
She gets beaten and bruised,
Instead of kisses and hugs.
Nobody hears the little girl’s cries,
Nobody notices her wet swelled eyes.
When her mommy is drunk and her daddy is high,
So she doesn’t get beaten, she has to hide.
She’s sick of the pain,
That she suffers from every night.
She’s sick of getting punished,
For her mom and dad’s fights.
So, she went downstairs and grabbed a rope,
And hung it way up high.
She stood on a chair and put her head through the noose,
And jumped and hung there to die.
Her mom came home drunk that night,
Her daddy came home high.
To find her hanging by the rope,
To find out she had committed suicide.
Nobody knew the pain she hid,
Nobody cared to look inside.
The little girl that had wet swelled eyes,
Committed suicide and no longer has to fight to stay alive.
The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands,
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams -
get down! get down! get down!
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed,
his eyes closed with new mom
gently caressing matted, cark curls,
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers
grip the plastic ribbing
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted,
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay
as she holds him, hurting for him,
everything that might happen,
everything that will happen,
and she drifts off to slumber,
mother and child peacefully spent
in soft pretty colors
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan
with government plates at the curb
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God)
to regretfully tell her,
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs
regretfully cannot hold her
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son,
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.
She was only five and this is what
happened when she was alive
Ser dad was a drunk her mom was an addict
They always kept her locked up in the attic
Her only friend was a toy bear
and it was old and worn with patches of hair
She always talked to it when nobody was around
she layed there and hugged it with not a peep of sound
Until her parents unlocked the door
some more pain she'll have to endore
Bruise on her leg scare on her face
why would she have to be in such a horrible place
She grabs her bear and softly cries
she loves her parents but they want her to die
She sits in the corner quiet but thinking
god why is my life always sinking
Such a bad life for a sad little kid
she got beaten and beaten for anything she did
And then one night her mom came home high
and she got beaten as the hours went by
Then her mom suddenly grabbed for a blade
it was sharp and pointy the one that she made
She thrusted the blade right in her chest
you deserve to die you worthless little pest
The mom walked out leaving the girl slowly dieing
she grabbed hey bear and again started crying
The police showed up at the small little house
and quickly barged in everything quiet as a mouse
One officer slowly opened a door
to find the little girl lieing on the floor
It must have been hard to go thourgh so much harm
but at least she died with her best friend in her arms
A child dies every day from child abuse and if you have an ounce of pity in your
heart for little auorura and you hate child abuse do something about it and let
them know that someone cares about them
Dear brother you were only 22
when the good Lord came calling for you
Water had consumed your last breath
Coroners said was a flashback from heroin and meth
I had always looked up to you
but your verbal abuse made me and the others feel blue
black hair hazel eyes man you look so like Elvis
imitating shaking your hips and pelvis
blisters and sores on your young pale face
oh boy how you had fallen from Gods grace
you had a little girl right after you died
Mom always stood by her and your girlfriend's side
first Grandpa then you Dad Mom and brother Bob
for my life now feels like I've been robbed
missed over 30 yrs of wishing you birthday greetings
now at the dinner table there is limited seating
but every year when your birthday comes and passes
I will be there to pick your grave site overgrown grasses
I wonder what you would look like today
or even if your hair would be full of grey
I have forgiven for all you had done to me
for I hold no regrets so your soul can be free
heres wishing you another birthday greeting
as I lay this card and rose at your grave site's seating
Please give Grandpa Dad Mom and brother Bob my love
for someday I will reunited with all of you above
For now I have my own little girl
for she is my own everyday world
I promise to tell her all about you
and how God will turn you into someone pure and new
Rest in peace my loving dear brother
heres another birthday wish I send in passion smothers
In Loving Memory Of
My Brother Gary
10/ 18/ 48
6 / 5 / 71
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality