‘Mama mama listen’.. she said.. was her voice not clear?.. so long gone when I got on..
did I lead it here?..
Mama turned looked around.. at the home she built.. with my dad her husband.. guilty act.. to each a family love wilts.. lay their love in private boxes.. hidden from the stares.. my friends were fun.. no hurtful judging is what led me there..
‘You saying they would lie?.. say that got it wrong.. what about the pictures you lovin’ to a song?.. they are just looking out.. I cannot be there.. cops have no stake I must believe.. must believe they care’..
Mama sank into thoughts of society.. how they make the rules.. for fools protecting you and me.. bonus is the onus.. transfer of the blame.. professionals can take it.. they are all the same.. secure how her thoughts were read by those who cannot see.. anything beyond the house of cards she built for free..
Looked at her willful daughter.. look how father works.. look inside your mind mama before counting perks..
‘Exactly’ said the daughter.. knowing she had lost.. mother will be close again.. but now sees such a cost.. last year life was my love with Eddie.. this year love with Bill.. where I was.. what was cool is where I sought my thrills.. now I have no one to blame.. no God to call my own.. no one to take all my fears and promise heavens throne..
just me and my hormones.. where primal things lurk.. lies do nothing here.. just wail in crying salt tear water works.. spoke few words when younger.. did mom just forget.. like playing a horse or two.. losing a big bet..
Grandma said in long gone years.. know she never lied.. she said to love is be loved.. lonely love that died.. though we share everything.. nothing here is free.. you child cannot escape what is you what me..
sure you were a youngster mom.. know you have the score.. know love not bought or sold.. aint no kind of whore.. when nana was dying.. mortal life came home.. something somewhere flying.. her love is in each poem..
now to speak with family.. especially mom.. have some fool come here with papers clutched in a sweaty palm.. push for information.. likely they will drop.. charges known to me as them.. does it ever stop?..
Social rules are difficult.. for teens usually more so.. there are a great many smart folks in the world.. we all start out sharing.. loving.. if I were smart enough to make rules.. I would not unless I could offer pertinent resolve.. pertinent to what? The perp who many times is the first.. and oft-times the last victim of their anger.. Peace T.
©AC.29.4.12.arr././
