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M
Mio
Member since August 18, 2022
Member for 3 years, 9 months
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Mothers hands
I tried to find my way, on my own
Like every mountain, uphill
I had made it over
And all the dark moonless nights, alone
I hid my scared and crying heart
Not once did i moan
What i found, was isolation
That made misery home
As a child, we cling to mothers hand
Blind, to all her flaws
If held tightly enough, never
Too far behind, too far away
Would we fall
But when mothers hands,
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Are full
Of everything but you
You learn, to be alive
Alone, to survive
And not once moan
The women of my roots
Stoic, hard souls
Far too strong,
To have ever known
What it meant, to grow
And not do it alone
The quiet, thats ice cold
Becomes comforts hold
And we take it, unconsciously
Into our ways, broken patterns sown
And we raise our young, to be alive
Alone, to survive
And not once moan
Mio’s timeline
- August 2023
-
18 FriAnniversary
One year of membership
- August 2022
-
19 FriReceived a critique
on Mothers hands from @Rosewood Apothecary
"Great job. Generational trauma is very difficult to break. I try to be better but sometimes my conditioning comes out. Then I feel terrible for yelling at the kids. It’s impossible sometimes. Let’s get into it… I tried…" -
18 ThuFirst publication
Mothers hands
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18 Thu
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18 ThuJoined Neopoet
Membership begins
First poem published 1 days later.
About Me
About me
I just- love to write.
Location: USA- Texas
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