Watching Día de Muertos as a non-Mexican,
I felt as though I should have known this earlier.
Reminiscence on how I have been a bad daughter,
how many young mothers have been forgotten,
even by their daughters.
For I am a convict to this.
No one talks about her anymore.
Her name was a taboo,
her picture a bad omen.
Having another mother when I couldn't recognise mine
made me forget my status.
Is she at fault? Of course, NO.
Am I at fault? Of course, YES.
Loving another shouldn't make me forget
the person that gave me life.
What a deadbeat daughter I am.
-
Author:
Precious Chukwudi (
Offline) - Published: November 14th, 2025 06:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5

Offline)
Comments1
Recognition of a past fault is not a sin but a blessing and the ability to correct it. A lovely write of contrition.
Thank you. That’s a beautiful way to see it, it truly is a chance to reflect and grow.
You are most welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.