The Mother I Know Of...

Here's a little poem I wrote way back when I was in middle school. I know posting in on Mother's Day is kind of anti-climactic, but there is darker side of motherhood and I wish everyone knew it.

Mothers are little nice things
Always associated with love.
The mother I know of
Is pretty different.

The mother I know
( Forgive me O Divinity)
Would rattle your senses
And challenge your sanity.

The mother who left her child
To die, at a tender age of three.
What sorrows, what grievances
She had, I know not yet.

The mother I know
Made the little soul cry;
What stuff was she made of?
So cruel and so dry.

The little child, motherless left
Never blamed her for that;
Yet the sorrow could not subside
Nor could it run, neither hide.

But how can these wounds
Be ever healed?
What medicine, what miracle
Can substitute for a mother's love?

This mother I tell you,
Would never know
How it is to be
A motherless child.

When lyrical lilt of love
And meandering music
Of motherhood unleash:
Her actions I do not judge.

This mother is my own;
I am afraid of being unjust.
As times have shown:
I must learn to trust.