I am not your mother,
nor do I want to be.
Choices made you my daughter,
voices say you don’t want it to be me.
Death is a wound that will never completely heal,
But wishing the dead to rise,
Is not within the power you have,
God had a reason why.
I wish every day your mom was here with you,
So you could have her around,
But since that is not the case,
Maybe you could change your thinking around.
Standing right before you is a mother that is here.
Maybe not the one you want,
But one who’s fair and real.
She means what she says when she says it,
“I’ll help you” because you know this is true.
Yet you care not for this person,
No matter what reasons are construed.
Always a hindrance; that, without a doubt,
Has left a bad feeling that can’t be talked about.
There isn’t much that’s not been done for you,
To help your life be easier,
A life that’s much easier since before you came around.
So no, I’m not your mother, and that will never change,
But I chose you as my daughter, the day you changed your name.
Being married and making babies does not make you ‘grown.”
Empathy, sympathy and compassion are a part of that new road.
Until you decide to look at yourself differently
You’ll never learn a positive thing.
When you start to see people are people and love you regardless,
Then you get your chance to change and grow.
One other thing from those of us who care–
It’s never good to throw away those in your life who loves you and cares,
Because one day you’ll wake up and one of those somebody’s will be gone.
You want to make sure you’ve given to them,
All they’ve given to you and more.
So no, you’re not my daughter,
And no, I did not want you to be,
But yes, you are my daughter,
Because I choose you to be.
The Lady You Don’t Want Me To Be