If Mother Knew Best

If my mother truly knew best, 

then why is it that my father is here

and not her?

 

You keep telling me that I should trust in my mother, 

BUT the second I do,

it gets thrown back in my face, ten-fold.

 

You keep telling me that she cares

and maybe she does, 

BUT, 

if I'm being honest,

the last time I remember that happening, 

I was only a child, 

younger than 5.

 

My father shows up for everything,

whilst my mother tells me I'm full of nothing

and YET

you want me to rely on my mother, 

as that is what society dictates?

 

If I relied on my mother, 

do not take offence,

I would be dead.

 

I do not mean to offend, BUT when it is truth, 

I cannot hide it any more. 

 

My mother would rather I live my life

according to her standards,

standards that make me irate.

 

Perhaps there is a part of me

that loves and cares for her

BUT

until she can understand, 

understand the hurt,

the damage,

the pain, 

she has caused,

I cannot talk of her

with positivity in my heart.

 

If my mother truly knew best,

then I ask again,

why is it,

that my father is here

and never

EVER, 

Her?

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

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