The Good Mother

The house is small.
                Dirt is creeping in.
                               Dust is piling up.
        Dishes are stacking.
                     Laundry is climbing.
Tempers and Tears.
Eyes that are heavy and dark.
Not mine.
Not me.
I leave.
I come back.
I play.
I escape.
I succeed.
                                                                    I fail. 
Today I am Good.
Not the Best or the Worst.
I gave all that that I had 
                                 that could be given 
                                                          when it was needed.
                                          
I am Good.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: