PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This is the age

I dread it

I feel it in my stomach

The stone fruit pit

I will never be rid of

Thirteen

My children are there

Here now

Dancing on the line

One toeing the threshold

Twp coming up to bat

Where I lost it all

The rose tint slipped

Umbilical cord snapped

Will they hate me

I didn’t know better

I accept my mistakes

But I still yell

Feel her burble from me

The banshee screaming

"I am done"

The parts of her

They live in me

But I refuse to let that win

The memory

The pain I lived is not theirs

But I always wonder

Did I do enough?

I don’t want them sad

Or lonely, in pain

Living like I did

I am not afraid of the angst

Nor the drama, of youth

I am afraid

They will see me, clearly

Like I saw her

And another generation

Another branch of the tree

Will be sent adrift