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Robin Rowell-Witt Poem
Dear mother, why do you scream and hit?
Dear mother, why do you yell and throw a fit?
Dear mother, you get angry when we stand or sit.
Dear mother, unloved you make me feel like I'm in a pit.
Dear mother, the oldest child you love the most.
Dear mother, why do you treat me like a ghost?
Dear mother, you hate me because I was born.
Dear mother, two out of three of us you are mad at and scorn.
Dear mother, why do you think I don't believe in the love you gave?
Dear mother, I won't visit you now or at your grave.
Copyright © Robin Rowell-witt | Year Posted 2025
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