Broken Mother

by Jess_14

Published January 10, 2007

Broken Mother

When I'm about to walk into a disaster,
I know what's to become of it.
For even the greatest amateur artists are cursed,
With the gift of keeping their feelings alive.

And when you undermine me,
I say nothing.
What ele can be said?
You only know to hide the truth so well.

Belittling those who have yet to outgrow you,
The one true talent you posses.
And I lack all will to do the same,
I fear becoming either one of you.

Other's tortured mistakes must mask your shame.
And I'm so easy to pin the blame on;
Under the fragility of becoming lost,
And perpetually confused by what you say.

Are you my nurturer or an enemy?
Straightforwardnes isn't my natural path,
I'd rather leap in curves;
But I just don't understand you.

And as you begin to raise your voice,
You stare straight ahead.
You never bother to look sideways,
Never see the tears coming from my eyes.

Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
Snoink
Review
Snoink wrote a review Review · Jan 20, 2007

First of all, this is a lovely poem, BUT you need to do spell check to make it even lovelier! And then, after spell check, read it yourself and fix the nasty spelling buggers. Proper spelling is your friend!

The first stanza is the only one that seems to be awkward -- the rest are quite lovely. For the first stanza, ask yourself what you want to say and then write it out. With some editing, you'll have a much more catchy beginning.

But I love the ending...

Anyway, nice work! Hope that helps! :D

User avatar
Jess_14
Comment
Jess_14 commented Comment · Jan 11, 2007

Aw thanks :)
But which parts confuse you? Let me know so I can see what I can do about it. =)

User avatar
Kinsley
Review
Kinsley wrote a review Review · Jan 11, 2007

Wow. It's heard to explain what I feel. My brain doesn't really understand the poem very well but my heart has been deeply affected somehow. I really like it and it's a very good poem. I feel so bad for the child. I didn't understand parts of it but maybe that's due to my own ignorance. Probably :)



Human minds are more full of mysteries than any written book and more changeable than the cloud shapes in the air.
— Louisa May Alcott