Thursday, April 22, 2010

I Try

I try 
to be your mother,

your father, your companion,
your mentor, your driver,
your coach, your greatest fan
and I’m just your mom.

I don’t know 
what it’s like 
to lose your father
when you’re so young,
to not have his attention,
his praise, or his ear 
to hear your dreams,
to quench your fears,
to make you feel safe
and loved.

When you were little,
you were his world -
he often didn’t see me 
because even his peripheral vision 
seemed focused strongly 
on each of you.

Now he is lost in a place
where none of us can reach,
drowning in a body that
continues to betray.

Although he keeps on going,
the journey excludes us.

His eyes are straight ahead,
we fall farther and farther behind.

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