Mom told me stories of her poor treatment at home.
Treated bad all the time, accepted and condoned.
Her Mom was uneducated, but not easy to fool.
My Mom, never finished, she dropped out of school.
My Dad she then married, a year came their son.
He was privileged, never blamed for the wrong he’d done.
My sister then followed, they were joined at the hip.
When I was born she said that I made her sick.
Then my little brother, the apple of her eye.
Just me she beat pushed in the corner to cry.
The strap or a stick, was what she used.
Or horrible words, left no trace of a bruise.
Old enough to leave, put a roof over my head.
Had to see her, for example, when a relative would wed.
My own wedding came, living very happily.
Let her visit with my kids, until she’d bad-mouth me.
Years passed, and two weeks before my Dad died,
She screamed cruel words, tears welled in his eyes.
The day he was buried, became a day like no other.
The scowl she threw at me said I no longer have a mother.
She’s still alive and kicking, lives with Brother’s family.
Several years now have passed and she still has not seen me.
Does she care? Probably not, has reaped what she’s sown.
For MY kids no childhood like the one I have known.