Mother! Poem by L.I. Fre

Mother! Dear, Mother!
Why?
You cannot be my Mother. I won't accept it.
How could I? To possibly think, I, could be from inside of you?
You make it impossible to believe.
Anything. In Hope. In You.
The sickening pain and words, flung into my face over and over.
You've gain the talent to pin Blame on me, even blindfolded.
I never asked you to be pregnant.
If I had known my life would be this..
You think I'd want to be here?
I know you mean well. I see you pray.
I hear your cries. I see the way you gaze at Father.
Hopeful. Wishful. Never Giving up. And I admire that.
But, Mother. Dear, Mother.
Our 'Home' is merely a Hellhole.
We can climb out ourselves before it's too late.
Or keep digging until we rot.
They have climbed out.
Yet, always returning to peek inside.
And see who's there. Digging. Groveling. Waiting.
I am waiting, but you keep digging. Why?
You must stop. You must climb.
And when you've reached the top, only then..
Will you see me look above to see you and say:
'Mother.' And you will have become my Mother at last.