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A Different Mother's Day
“Mother”, someone we adore! Unconditionally loved ,with secrets that are stored. ...But for me, something is different than before. Now, I am incomplete and adulterated at the core When there should have existed so much more. My nurturing days have irreversibly waned. They were taken away, discarded, and stained; Given back to me, the “no-mother”, drowning in pain By a man with no more face and no more name. My children now only know deceit, limits and fear, That they were born and just that they are here. But what do we call her (me), mother dear? For all they know is what’s alive in their tears. The ‘mother’ in me arises Through the lies, and to her ties; Attempting to hear her children’s cries. The seething male simply smiles and sighs. A wretched way to be torn apart; Reduced to nothing, accused of a no beating heart. In my children’s eyes, I have no part. For the of truth of my love was twisted and distort. My body and soul disposed of, shoved aside. The abuse of love showed no remorse, only despise; From the man which I once did love and abide. He would ,from the world, forever try to hide his lies In an instant this woman leaves her heart aside And she escapes her bondage, her heart desperately cries Her children’s heart broken, left behind Her only hope for all... was for her to survive. Lingering, the mutilating damage caused The malefactor laughs without applause Sacrificing his children without pause Only in his death will this demon be declawed. He shouts out loud in his kingly quest still Selfish to the bone, icy and chilled, “She’ll be unhappy, and I’ll be fulfilled”... And it is my will and, “ I have the right to kill”... One man’s drive keeps no one alive. The woman (and mother) in me holds on one more day to strive Building hopes and dreams of the one’s she loves the most into life While watching her children closely, but surely, not die. And just for today I didn’t live a lie. Just for today, this different Mother’s Day I allowed my self to once again die. Tomorrow, again I will live to fight another day. For Motherhood is mine to reclaim!
Copyright © 2024 Carol Owens. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things