Poetry- “Good Enough”

Never good enough.

The theme of my life.

Not good enough as a child, not good enough as a wife.

Not good enough to pursue my dream, not good enough for that.

Not good enough in the home, not good enough at math.

Kids in trouble early, from drinking, drugging, and running away.

Yet, “I’ll never be good enough for you,” is all I hear them say.

Never mind a broken heart, wounded by their words.

Never mind, my lonely nights, disappearance deeply hurts.

You don’t remember walking away, when all I did was chase.

Forgot the nights I drove around, while you slumped in alcohols embrace.

Midnight calls in drunken rage, police lights glaring in the night.

Children caught in addicted living, traumatized by the sight.

Of mom and dad fighting, or passed out and slept away,

A young boy fed himself and his sisters, alone throughout the day.

Not good enough is right, as I contemplate what I did wrong.

Did I did too much, or not enough.

Was it video games, dances, songs?

I wasn’t good enough to see the pain, in childhood P.T.S.D.

I wasn’t good enough to figure out, the years you didn’t eat.

I wasn’t good enough to teach you worth, and what real men ought to do.

Bottom line, it echoes loud, I was never good enough for you.

Today I stay quiet, my words seem worthless and diseased.

For whatever I say is never enough, because they come from me.

Publicly they cry foul, like I’ve never said a peep.

As though I never once encouraged, or tried to sing your praise.

Even though I’ve talked, called, texted, at all hours of the day.

For decades I saw your light, the one you never see.

And I told everyone who’d listen, that light shines at me.

I told you, you are worthy, and capable to succeed.

Smart, beautiful, and caring. A gem who loves us all.

The biggest heart for the biggest failures, a hand that lifts when others fall.

You don’t hear what I say, then you fail to believe.

So, here I sit, a solemn mother who waits for you to see.

All I saw long ago, but you refused to see it, too.

The words I once showered freely, now remain subdued.

I keep it locked for better days, when you will hear it roar.

Always good enough for me, but wishing I’d done more.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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