37 Years

The precious face

Doused in make up and covered by black locks 36 years in the making

Your internal wounds are not so easily hidden

His words  have never even made you smitten


Oh what have you done?

For somebody who deserves so much love,

Don't you know there's nothing worth fighting for?

Even though your my mother doesn't mean I can't understand;

Another year of this torture and you might just crack

Woman, you love him, but he doesn't understand

To you he's a room mate,

Didn't you want something more than a friend?


We all know what your feeling

Being alone is never easy

there are nights you'll still want to cuddle in his bed

But we must grow up

And you must find your place

I promise you 

It's not in his cliche trophy case


Yes, I want you to know

Even if you don't have a man,

You have two daughters

we will be better companions than that


We do understand that your scared to be alone

But in a house so broken

Your heart will be gnawed to the bones


It's okay if you leave

Mom, nobody is asking for you to put yourself through this

Although you'll feel grief

You must know that someone out there is waiting for you


There is a little porch,

With a tire swing and red tulips instead of wild weeds,

Where a precious face doused in makeup and covered in black locks that have been 36 years in the making belongs

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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