There is a stage of life,
When nothing is quite good,
It's all just one big fake,
Nothing as it should.
Friends just come and go,
Not many stay that long,
Sarcasm and questions,
Fill a Teenagers song.
The one who has the task,
The hardest job of all,
Is the mother of this child,
Who always must stand tall.
She loves through all the silences,
And all those angry fights,
A mother is always caring,
Although she has her rights.
A mothers love is deep,
Deeper then any other,
Through thick and thin,
Good and bad, she is still a mother.
Mom, although you may grow angry,
And let something slip your tongue,
I know it is for my good,
Even if it stung.
Although i never show it,
Or don't realize right away,
Mom i know you love me,
Even if you don't always say.
I know that i am selfish,
A lazy little brat,
But mom I'm going through this,
and i say thanks for that.
I know I'll come out wiser,
Learned a thing or two,
But while i go through it,
Your one i can go to.
There are few teenage girls on planet Earth, Etti, who not only would never be able to express the thoughts you have done here in the WAY that you have, but also who would not even be able to approach some of the more specific thinking. What a mature young lady! It's a very dear poem, just beautiful, & I laughed so hard at the line, ' a lazy little brat'.You are extremely honest! (I was lazy when young, too, & I definitely had 'brat' skills.) The poem is so truthful & pretty gutsy! I just hope you never stop writing poetry. And I'm sure your mother was moved by reading this and also because of having a daughter like you.