Mother
by Barbara Lynn Terry

Dedicated to my mother, June 3, 1928 - February 2, 1997

She screamed, yelled and condemned,
That there was nothing good about men,
She always kept to her thirties ways,
And never saw her better days,
She so much dreamed of,
A house, a car, and love.

She spent her days working hard,
But her children she'd discard,
One to an institution, the rest
She ignored, and did her best,
To make sure she got her rest,
And everyone else she'd so detest.

She always lived in the past,
And a dire shadow she'd cast,
On those who opposed her will,
For after she had had her fill,
She threw them in the wolf den,
Hoping she'd never see them again.

This woman who raised four girls,
But bore five into the world.
Abandoned and disowned the eldest,
She had no regret, no remorse,
And set the eldest on a course,
Of such sad and lonely days.

Now she lies beneath the earth,
While her eldest did give birth,
To sullen, sad, and lonely cries,
And looking toward the skies,
Wonders why her mother had no love,
A mother's love she so dreamed of.

Please tell me why mother,
Was I such a bother?
But even tho she never loved me,
Simply because of this girl I so need to be,
I will always love this woman you see,
In my heart, soul, and memory.