PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Is it as though I died,

And do they reminisce?

Or is my name forbidden,

To pass from their lips?

Do they think of me,

And wish I were there?

Do they miss my presence,

Am I even a passing care?

Does a tear ever drift down,

From within' their eye?

Are they aware how I miss them...

Of how much I cry?

Do they hold me in blame,

And such utter contempt?

Because I took control of me,

Or is my happiness exempt?

Will they ever accept me again,

And be involved in my life?

For I never stop being their mother,

...Just stopped being, the wife.