I remember the time I first saw my mother cry.

Her soft blue eyes were puddled with red.

In the corner.

Sniffling and sad.

My hero, my idol, broken down.

What do you do when your six years old,

alone.

Scared yourself, by the one you love.

What to say?... when you don't even know the right words.

The first time I saw my mother cry I felt hopeless.

My dad out of the house, 

my brother hiding.

The first time I saw my mother cry... I cried with her.

I cried for her.

And then each time after, I got stronger.

Children, I have been told, are not responsible.

"It's not your fault"

"It's not your job to protect your parents feelings"

"Your the child"

Well have they been told

what it feels like to watch your mother cry.

Each day I got wiser and today I'm much stronger.

But I still remember the first time I saw my mother cry.