My Mother's Tears Poem by Hal Caufield

My mother cried again last night.
I looked down trying to avoid her eyes,
Knowing that I was the cause of the pain.
She wrestled with my stare
Until I was confronted with
The totality of her heart ach.
Though once filled with a million hopes,
Each tenderly imparted to me on a mother’s lap,
Her eyes were now finite
And devoid of any joy.

She begged me to understand,
How I am such a good man,
But once again I am not loved
For heart or word,
Rather I am sought
For house and hearth.

Like a scoundrel and wretched dog,
I fought back the tears
For the pain I have caused
This good woman in so many years.

Though all her life she has
Stood like Penelope as a defender
Of marriage, I have forced
Her not once, but twice to counsel
Breaking nuptials for the sake of true Love.

But I know her deepest pain
Was not the strain of it happening again.
I know she feared most that I may
Never be loved for heart and word.
Her greatest fear, that her once young boy
May never find true Love.
So again she cried in my arms.
And I hung my head in shame
For the choices I have made.