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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1397533
A young girl remembers needing her mother-and then she becomes one.
I spent seventeen years needing you-
In the beginning, you wanted it.
You liked to carry me; pick me up when I fell.
My arms reaching up-
My tears made you smile and hold me tighter.

Then I wanted you to need me-
But you didn’t. 
Sneak out and meet a boy in his back seat-
Cry in your room with the door locked-
Wait on a phone call that never comes-
Walk through the halls with your head down-
Drink a bottle in the bathroom-
But you didn’t.

The day I saw two pink lines, I called you.
A baby blue quilt thrown over me,
pulled to my chin, I waited for
you to answer. 
I thought I would need you again-

But you finally cried and thanked me.
You said it was a gift that only I could give and
now I will know what its like to be needed.
© Copyright 2008 liltalygal (sparenti at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1397533-For-Mama-Then-I-Had-My-Own