Mom

 
I was her loss of  freedom
her disappointment
her burden to bare.
I was the curious independent one
with no fear.
Always rebellious and stubborn.
I had nothing to learn.
A little to cocky and sure.
A n y t h i n g
to get to her.
We quarreled
We screamed.
Until hatred and resentment gleamed.
Our indignant differences
never heard by each other.
I was a rotten
ungrateful child.
She was a
mean vindictive mother.
She always had such the short fuse..
Our arguments ending
in broken boned abuse..
Time passes ..........
as it always does.
Each of us losing
our share of love.
Neither understands
the others point of view.
Both of us competing
in everything we do.
The older I get.
The more I want this war to end..
Stop now ..
Look at me!
I am not what I appear to be.
I must admit
to my shame.
In some ways
we are the same..
To hurt you
was not my intention.
I was simply looking for your
undivided attention.
I wish the day would come
that you could understand.
All I ever wanted
was for you
to love me
for who I am!

ERICA