Mothered Or Smothered? Poem by Francesca Johnson

I know he was ill
but still.....

Below the surface
I feel that you smothered him.

You mothered him
in the best way you could
as any mother would.

But in the end
it did no good.

He could no longer live with those demons.
He wasn't a free man.
They were always there.

But the cotton wool?
The kid gloves?

With your overpowering love
could you not have seen
what was to be?
And set him free?
Just a little?

He was imprisoned
by his and your emotion.
Too much emotion,
making him out to be different,
special,
above all others.

You had others!

Six others.
Did THEY get the attention
they needed?
Did you feed them
the time and praise
needed by children
as they are raised?

How do they feel about this 'god'?
Their brother,
revered and pedestallised
by their mother
with such passion?

And how did HE feel
to be the main focus of YOU?
Was he split in two?
God or man.
An idol.

Was it fair
To share your time
90 / 10?

10 for them.
The little ones.
Watered-down time,
in between
those chimes of panic
and fear.

Or might it be
that being the mother you are
you care
for the runt of the litter?
No bitterness
from the others.

Does love stretch
to encompass all?
All those children
who call. And need you
because you're Mother.
Did you smother?

Or was your heart so big
You loved them all?



Written in response to Danielle Steel's book about her son Nick. Well worth a read.............