
For Momma, as a child, the pain was all she knew,
Her life was a blur, memories, a hazy view,
Running away, she decided to start anew,
Determined such pain, her family would never go through.
But her pain left scars, no laughter or tears to be found,
No love inside, no hope around,
Her pride kept the truth from being found,
Her love, though she tried never unwound.
I cried for Momma, loved her so,
Desperate for her love to flow,
Lied for her, just to let her know,
But never got to kiss her, her love she could not show.
She had her own ideas, hard to comprehend,
No holding hands, no love to extend,
Never allowed to cry, nor wounds to mend,
Little to do, her rules would not bend.
Momma couldn’t help the way she treated us,
But pain filled our lives, life a bitter fuss,
I thought Running away was the only plus,
Never to relive the pain, never the past to discuss.
I still love Momma, and pray for her too,
But lying for her is something I won’t do,
Her pain and pride, no longer my glue,
I’ll heal and grow, and start anew.
For in this of life, I’ve come to see,
The love I seek must first come from me,
To break the cycle, to set us free,
I’ll find healing, and let my love be.

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