The Legacy

Her voice of guilt comes on breezes blown through windows

I have not the strength to close

I stuff fingers in my ears to block the mocking sound

Yet she, unrelenting, follows there, always knowing where I can be found

On golden days with sunshine glowing when all the world seems right

She bothers not to cease this torment, only whispers to her delight

Lies, untruths, accusing blame for all she never had

It’s not my fault her life was less, not my fault she was always sad

I stand here now above her grave an offering of flowers as a way to say

I wish her peace and hope she rests, perhaps has found her way

To a place where her empty heart can heal, that she has found far better days

I turn away, but she calls me back still determined to blame another

For a life unfulfilled and the not good enough headstone upon which is written

Only a solitary word ….

Mother