Statue Poem by Chantel Braatz

My mother built this statue.
As I lay there scattered
across the floor.
Broken glass shattered
everywhere.
As I lay there helplessly
I begin to cry. Realizing I ruined my life,
trying to make my life as busy as
possible.
Neglecting my children saying the same thing
over, and over again.
My oldest as stubborn as a mule.
Middle child as crabby as a piranha.
My youngest as sensitive as a rusty nail that someone stepped on.
Screening there calls,
so I don’t have to deal with them.
Come home as tired as an old dog,
my youngest sitting on my bed waiting for my arrival.
I look at her and I know what she wants,
but I’m too tired to do anything.
See her tears in her eyes,
and my heart sinks.-
I know I’ve disappointed her,
knowing that her heart is dieing,
is making mine die more inside.