A Life of Questions

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Not every daughter has a great relationship with their mother & I was one of them. I wrote this poem as a way of venting my feelings in regard to how I had been treated by the one person I thought would love & protect me no matter the circumstances. Eventually, I was able to forgive what had been done against me but it is an everyday process to forget the damage that was caused by the actions.

A Life of Questions

Looking back will I see, the child that I was never allowed to be, or will I let it all go and realize that it is all a distant memory that is just trying to haunt me?

As I reminisce about the dreams that I once had, will I hold on to the anger that my mother never once believed in me or gave me the encouragement I needed in order to succeed?

Watching as my little girl becomes a woman of her own, will I be able to forget that it was my mother who made it possible for her to be taken from my life to live without me,(not in my home)?

Overhearing conversations that she has with my husband when she thinks I am not around, will I be able to forgive the lies that she tells in order to cast doubt upon me?

Have I not tried to understand the life she had and have I not try to explain her pain by referring to her own unhappiness so that others might, in some slight way understand?

How much more must I endure just to find acceptance in my mother's eyes?  I am never good enough, not in actions nor in words.  I am just the one she wishes she never had.

I hurt each day that I awake and realize, I will never be the woman that she thought I was suppose to be and that there will never be acceptance in her eyes for me.

Disappointment is the tattoo that has been branded upon my heart by her hateful words to me and by the lack of love that she has always showed, as her eyes cut holes through my soul.

How am I suppose to shed any tears as I now watch her life slip away, knowing that she alone, is to blame for the how she now feels as well as for how she is now fading away?

Are there any answers to the questions of my life and if so, will anyone offer them to me so that I might know?  In my heart, I do not hate but in my life, I do hurt without any hope.

A life of questions is not a way for one to live, it holds you down as you search for the answers, that no one seems able to give. Her lies have cost me dearly, tell me how am I to forgive? 

 Kylene Monroe VeraCovarrubias

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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kylenemonroevc’s Poems (6)

Title Comments
Title Comments
I Still Believe In The Man You Left Behind 0
Salvation In Him 0
Cursed 1
Redeemed By Faith 1
A Life of Questions 0
Hidden Desire 0