Mother's Guilt Poem by Vincent Cibelli

I’m sorry, it makes sadness prolonged
And I have seen the cursed causes of that sadness
The inuendoed causes of my depression
I disappoint and can make uncomfortable
Friendly people with silences
And smiles of hopeless attraction
My mother, text book character,
Disappoints with a calm fury
Pierce quite eyes, soundless guilt
She has her points, soap box stances
traditional roots moral corner stones
Eternal flames societal stirring, cultured stumps.
Disappointment my sloth, pride, wide ignorant mouth
Valid and lucid chains the pain to cinder blocks
Rights or rights I know none, neither, never
I play cops and robbers, but I’ve been robber for the poor
And planted evidence. Mound a case and argue
If you were wrong at least you were occupied
Occupied whatever means, however evil by whose
definition you chose to follow. The written word
Is just that written, for followers, critics, zealots, readers
A muse, a story, a heresy, another mind factory.
Like those silent guilting eyes, and mood defining stance
I don’t want the world to adapt to me
Neither I to it, hope and want, need
Hope, Want, Need
One more time to make my pointless.