My mother cried again last night. <br />I looked down trying to avoid her eyes, <br />Knowing that I was the cause of the pain. <br />She wrestled with my stare <br />Until I was confronted with <br />The totality of her heart ach. <br />Though once filled with a million hopes, <br />Each tenderly imparted to me on a mother’s lap, <br />Her eyes were now finite <br />And devoid of any joy. <br /> <br />She begged me to understand, <br />How I am such a good man, <br />But once again I am not loved <br />For heart or word, <br />Rather I am sought <br />For house and hearth. <br /> <br />Like a scoundrel and wretched dog, <br />I fought back the tears <br />For the pain I have caused <br />This good woman in so many years. <br /> <br />Though all her life she has <br />Stood like Penelope as a defender <br />Of marriage, I have forced <br />Her not once, but twice to counsel <br />Breaking nuptials for the sake of true Love. <br /> <br />But I know her deepest pain <br />Was not the strain of it happening again. <br />I know she feared most that I may <br />Never be loved for heart and word. <br />Her greatest fear, that her once young boy <br />May never find true Love. <br />So again she cried in my arms. <br />And I hung my head in shame <br />For the choices I have made.<br /><br />Hal Caufield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-mother-s-tears-2/
