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By c j, www.PoetryPoem.com/heartunes    Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime

Feeling pain in the middle of my gut
I write this poem
Because crying is okay
While writing takes
The blues away
It's a fact
This mind can act
Like a two-year-old brat
When it feels scorned
By one I carried for nine months
Then he was born
Never abused as the rest of us
In his dad, he trusts
While to me his dad
Turned into a fiend
Nothing but, nothing but, nothing but mean
To those under him
To her and to him
But you don't remember
One born in September
As you were the one blessed
While we were caressed
By mind control
That takes away the soul
It never ends
The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that bends
Your once strong mom into a weakling
You'll never understand being meekly
Is there any empathy you do?
All reason is not me, it's you
And I guess it's going to leave me crying
The rest of my life
That you're here for the parents of your wife
That you cannot even come over, stand outside, give me a hug
Just so I can see your manly mug
That's not my little boy anymore
Running in and out our door
And that's hard for me
As it shall be
When you cannot even come over
And say hello to your mother
It breaks my heart
As I cry
I have to realize your not that guy
That lived at home most of twenty-five years
That helped my life with my many fears
I will get over it and smile
As we're are both still alive awhile
Though separate on this Earth with different views
I still like to hear the news
Of what you're doing, how you feel
It's part of being a mom, that's real
To have all of my children, I am blessed
And Christmas is overwhelming, I guess
Living in this house that doesn't work so good
Driving me crazy as it should
To have no room to barely move
Trying to get it in the groove
For me and doggy dears
Then maybe, just maybe, I won't be crying tears
Because everything is far from where
I need to be at this time
With Christmas so close
So I will think of two people who love me most
And go on not crying now
Go on trying to get it together somehow
So I will thank God
Who loves me odd
I'll thank Colt Ford, too
For saying "I love you"
When you don't have the time
Then the poetry comes where I just have to rhyme
My prayers written
To God, I'm smitten
All love
The reason we celebrate
So I won't hate
You have another family now
I'll just raise my head high to the heavens
Then bow down to something better
Than being hurt in a poem-letter.

12/21/2015 2204PST cj

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