Sometimes
Four years and nine months to late,
I’ve thought to myself a thousand times; if only I’d known,
We wouldn’t be in this present state,
Each of us separately alone.
You call me mommy but do you know I’m your mother?
You look exactly like me with blond hair and blue eyes,
But to hear her,
I’m sure you’d think otherwise.
No phone calls; a visit here and there,
I don’t know if I’d want to know what you think of me,
So one wrongly sided; so unfair,
For now you can only go by what you see.
Unfortunate for me; so much more so for you,
Sometimes my son, no matter what’s been done, what’s been said,
Sometimes no matter what you do,
Things don’t work out as they were intended.
Christina Lyons
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