Bless My Mom
My mom had to learn to live with me.
She learned she’d never be free.
She looks back at the sonogram.
When I was a little lamb.
And wonders what I would be.
If I could grow up like a good old tree.
But she cries words unspoken.
She would rather my legs be broken.
She would rather I couldn’t see.
Her on her knees with her prayers and pleas.
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