Watching you grieve.

I watch you grieve as the day approaches
you mourn the loss of your boys as if they are dead.
Your pain is palpable in the house, in the car
through the very air we breathe

In your mind you believe
"they don't want me around"
Yet you never ask, saying
"you don't have to come,do as you please"
Never telling them you desperately
want them
need them.

Blame the ex, blame me, blame them.
Everyone but the true culprit.
They are teens in the midst of self-discovery.
Still child enough to think the world revolves around them.
They haven't yet learned to read your mind.

I feel your pain, but to even suggest you tell
is to ignite your wrath.
So fearing that I simply watch you grieve.