Precious Treasure Thrown Away

Empty eyes and smiling lies, side-arm hug and quick good-byes;
Twenty in pocketbook oversized, off to traces of talking faces;
Girl left behind again, bereft of mother with strain of tears
To smear soft cheeks in yet another smothered cry no one will hear.
Brothers exalted, over vaulted; mamma’s boys, little male toys,
And ne’er even a thought for the pain’s she’s brought unsought
To daughter prepared for lonely slaughter as she totters on edge
Of obscurity… Does mother know, as she stars in her empty show,
And lives her vacuous life full of hidden strife, the knife blow
She deals her girl as she peals herself from open arms and steals
Away from home? And at what cost and harm? Such answer reveals
Itself in broken heart, unspoken word, token kiss, oaken embrace;
Does it matter? Ah! This mother will smother under all she destroyed
That she could have enjoyed had she not been so blind as to bind
Her own flesh and blood by unkind words, sinking daughter beneath
Water of poisonous flood of desolation in isolation for her own
Foul recreation, an evil incantation for self-satisfaction and all
As distraction from kindred spirit born from the tomb of her womb;
She cannot stand to see herself again so young, life just begun,
So she turns away and will not stay … but neither will daughter
When comes the day into the world to make her own foray; no farewell
Will slip her lips as she turns about, walks out, and callously balks
At mother’s dismay… No, of course, she will not stay; not another day.
.

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