My mother is afraid
She praises and smiles
But secretly inside there is fear
She fears for my progress
She does not want me to be great
She does not want me to progress
Because she fears the pain
It would cause her by losing me
She does not want to remember
Me as so talented and beautiful
And kind and sweet and lovely
No that would tear her to bits
Every time I show her a new ability
The tight smile disintegrates my eager eyes
A quick word of encouragement is all
I receive and then I fear as well
And kick myself saying the same thing
Over and over is why did I have to
Learn and flourish and be gifted
Why should I fear my own will
And my own power but it is only to be
Remembered and make those I love
Cry in anguish someday for me
It’s all my doing and all my fault
Gifts of mine are bountiful
But shall they be used in a moderation
I think not until I see the expression
Sometimes she cries and I can
Never tell if the tears are of fear
Or joy or just a new reaction
To my growing life and end
Shall I do something for myself
Or don’t do something for
The benefit of my mother
This answer I may never
Ever discover and my life
I pray will be a blessing and a gift
Rather than my gifts and blessings
Be only a burden on the
Backs of those I love and cherish
Deeply I hope that this work is
One that is not a gift but as simple
As an instinct as something that had
To be written out or perhaps it is
Simply another blessing that
They will mourn for