Two Towers Poem by isaac gracie

I am sorry, mother, that in those lowly morning hours
It should be you who stumbled upon me in that chair,
With your debt to pay, pills to swallow – there - my towers
To behold, ransacked, razed, beyond self-repair.
And I, so ignorant, ignored your own
Teetering tower, in which all four of us had made
Our home, and with weed-like spines, through the walls had grown,
And sought out lights, beyond, with debt unpaid.
And thus once more did I demand you demolish
The bedrock of that teetering tower of yours,
That I might build anew, with old stones polished,
A tower where I could live again - behind safe walls.

It was not, and never, your duty as my mother
To sacrifice yourself for my own self-destruction,
But sacrifices many and great and unseen
Were made. My tower now, as debt, is yours for reconstruction.