She stares in the mirror Who is this person I see;
addict, mother, woman,
a survivor of the beast?
Such a price she's had to pay
For hitting the bottom of the well;
a year of memories lost,
but the end of a life of hell.
She lies on her bed,
eyes trained toward the daughter
for whom she gave birth and lost,
missing a year of her life, a lifetime to her.
Sleeping soundly, her child is not aware
of the battles fought by her mother;
dreams of parenthood dashed,
in her drive to choose another.
The child knows only the care
of foster family, and mother
who have both loved and lost her
and learned to trust each other.
Mixed blessings by one mother
fearing failure;doubting success,
appreciation and resentment
by the other, is put to rest.
Light prevails over darkness
as she promises for the day
to choose survival and healing,
and keep addiction at bay.
Trusting eyes reappear as she scoops up her child,
impervious to judgemental glances, as they
waltz among strangers to the glorious sound
of recovery and second chances.
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