Do you talk to each other on Mother's Day
Recounting all the ways you were betrayed
Abused
Unsupported
And then do you talk about
All the ways you hate her, your Mother
And never want to see her again
Do the feelings of righteousness then give way to
Comfort
And then when those phone calls are over
Do you go about your day defecting that
Little piece of guilt that remains
When you explain to others
Why you left your Mother laying in a ditch
With her heart ripped out
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem