Still processing.




THIS SON COULD NEVER WIN

She could always tear my heart apart.
Mostly with unsubstantiated anger –
Followed by deliberately executed silence:
Coventry became my second home.

At eighty-something a heated argument mushroomed
In accepting blame without accepting anything
She excused herself with these immortal words,
“Ha! I’m way too old to change, now!”

Even then they were spat with venom,
Eyes expressed wide in open challenge.
There was no real point in retaliating:
I’d long before learned a son can never win.





Poetry by Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 51 times
Written on 2023-01-23 at 12:34

Tags Relationships  Grief  Contemplation 

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D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
A powerful testament Allen; and expressed in a way that conveys the emotions then felt.
2023-01-30


Sona The PoetBay support member heart!
Neither a daughter
2023-01-27


urban duck The PoetBay support member heart!
C’est du charabia


Enfin! Un commentaire honnęte ! Merci
Blessings
Allen
2023-01-23


Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
This poem is my thought for today
Regards Alan
2023-01-23