Friday, July 16, 2010


I hate the way that mother scolds
With her eyes, her tone,
The way she turns her head
A disappointed heat
Radiating from her pores
Burning me in shame
Making me feel so small
So inadequate
Because I could never be her
And never be good enough
To make her beam with pride
And glow with love
And hug me tightly
I wilt in her shadow
Wishing I could be more like her
Swallowing the reality
She cannot see
I can only be me.

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