This Isn’t a Pretty Poem about Motherhood.

---

This isn’t a pretty poem about motherhood.

this is a piece that will portray bearing
& raising children in a way that we don’t speak of.

the forbidden whispers of exhaustion
& relentless tears inspired by shortcomings
& fear of failure

this isn’t rose colored glasses
& flowers growing in pastures
as our children run through fields.

this is reality
it is real
this is raw.

Disappointment
dismay
& every unreliable
expectation that we set for ourselves

we don’t dream of our children’s aspirations
in regard to what they want to be when they grow into themselves.
Childlike drawings of my son portrayed
as what society deems to be great
doesn’t keep me awake in the night

It’s his life.
& the fear of it being stolen
we strive to simply keep our kids breathing,
& not reaching for metaphorical guns
We just want our babies to come home.


This isn’t a pretty poem about motherhood.

This is piece could have been
written from behind a locked bathroom door
back against the wall,
knees to my chest
finding solace in the cold floor
while chaos resides on the other side
of my calm

this is a mother’s wits end.
the storm.
the “I can’t believe I had this many kids”
& if I hear the word “mama” one more time,
I’m gonna run!!!!


This isn’t a pretty poem about motherhood.

this is a piece
​for all of the pieces
of broken-hearted mothers
that are forced to visit gravesites
& vases on mantles.
for the sadness.
the anguish
the what-if’s & the unknown.

This isn’t a pretty poem about motherhood.

​
this is a piece
giving praise to every woman
that has raised
that is raising
that is making
& paving the way
for yet another generation
to prove their greatness


this is a THANK YOU
for the late nights
early mornings
honorary PHD’s in teaching
the dreams deferred
the sacrifice
the blood
the sweat
the tears.


you are seen, every day.

​- Robin G



Happy Mother’s Day