All She Asked

August 26, 2010
Sleep in my eyes, I trudge down the stairs
my mother will offer a hug and a kiss
I don't respond.
She questions my choices for breakfast
insists that I get all I need
I don't answer.
She wants to know that my clothing
is cover enough for the cold
I don't care.
Assured that my day will be fruitful
she blesses me as I take leave
I just pray.
School have run through its courses
she's waiting, and often with treats
Which I snatch.
My brother and I will be fighting
and she will soon step in between
While I glare.
Inquiring after my homework
she wants me to finish with speed
I dawdle.
She asks me to wash all the dishes
and clean up my mess of a room
I just whine.
She tries to incline me to cooking
and skills that I need to be taught
I breathe sighs.
When tedious tasks are completed
she offers to start up a game
I go read.
In moments of lingering sadness
she'll joke just to surface a smile
Which I hide.
I'm sorry, Mom.
It was all you ever asked in return
for trying to raise me right.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback