Misplaced
In my few quiet moments, I always say grace,
a mother first, trying to find my place,
my eyes are tired, every single day,
I’m praying for peace, to come some how, some way.
A co-worker's friendship is definitely great,
I work so hard, yet my bills are still late.
Im trying to juggle the roles, of being both mom and dad,
sometimes crying in bathroom, not wanting the kids to see me sad.
For them I work long hours, trying to make it all alright,
hiding the struggles that haunt me at night.
I want to be enough,
Why is this life so tough?
As a daughter, I wanted to make them proud,
but I suffer the burden of them humiliating me in front of a crowd.
A true love with someone I hope to share,
someone who means it when they say they’ll always be there.
For all that I strive to give, for all that I try,
here comes my racing thoughts,
asking myself why?
I dream of a moment where love holds the key,
to the genuine heart I have for them all,
something I fear they will never see.
Copyright ©
Heather Berg
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