I took my first step,
And you weren’t there.
I graduated kindergarten,
And you weren’t there.
I beat up a boy for kissing me,
And you weren’t there.
I was bullied and didn’t show backbone,
And you weren’t there.
I went on my first date,
And you weren’t there.
I got my first kiss,
And you weren’t there.
I got my high school diploma,
And you weren’t there.
I graduated college,
And you weren’t there.
I got married,
And you weren’t there.
I gave birth to a child,
And you were there.
Holding my child in your hands,
I looked at you and tempted to ask why you weren’t never there,
Not knowing that you were in jail,
I just smiled and said,
“I’m glad that you’re here, mom.”
