Untitled Poem by Rob Ammann

It's almost prom and I only see the one who isn't there, 

Almost graduated yet still feel less than bare.

The one who gave me life,

She makes me feel only a sad strife.
"She does think about me, " I say,

"But does she really? " I pray.

Mothers are supposed to be by your side, 

And I know how hard she might've tried.

But that doesn't make up for how much I cried.
She used to sing songs of love and joy,

Giving hope to someone who was just a boy.

But "love you big big bunches" and "miss you like crazy"

Is making my memory more than hazy.
I write this poem to express how I feel, 

Not for the devil to make me a deal.

I don't want the evil she might bring, 

But I can't help but feel more than that thing.
That thing of hatred and spite

Feels like a thunderstorm, and I'm flying a kite,

Asking to be struck down and hurt.

But that's not how I should be, thinking my life's in the dirt.
I blame you and what you've done, 

But you should know a little about your son.

I'm willing to tell you the adventures I've been on, 

And the future I refuse to sit on.
I'm going to be an actor because you taught me to fake a smile,

Although it hurts once in a while.

I will get to become a different person, 

And in that time my thoughts of myself will worsen.

So I'd like to thank my mother for that learned burden.