When you loved me,
But then I was only three.
As I started to grow and mature,
You stopped loving me, why, I’m not sure.

When I was seventeen,
You were glad to be rid of me.
When his abuse began,
You wouldn’t lend a hand.

When you told him lies about me,
He came home, his fury I had to see.
When I first gave birth,
I cried for you, for what it’s worth.

When I gave birth the second time,
Again my tears weren’t worth a dime.
All the promises you didn’t keep,
To this day still hurt me deep.

You seldom came when I needed you,
You always had more important things to do.
Now I find myself wondering, when I was three,
Did you love me, or was it lies I was too young to see?

Yes, I remember…..

When you were my Mother

© November 3, 2003
Janice Jarnagin