A letter to a mum.

We all have different survival tactics. We all have unique ways of finding our way through the road map we call life. Some reach their destination unscathed, and some finally get there, after having fought many battles and overcoming many obstacles, looking and feeling a little worse for wear, (an understatement for many I know) It's even harder for a parent as we become bystanders in our children's lives, especially when we can see dangers that are only obvious to a parents eye. As I explained before, evil entered our world and when I spotted it, I had no other choice but to allow my son to ride the wave of time. His addiction had caught hold of him, and it had completely highjacked his personality and it seemed he changed in an instant. It all came to a head when he was facing a prison sentence for a multitude of drug related offences, one being aggravated. He was under the young offenders and one of the goals set by his Y.O.T worker was taking responsibility for the crimes committed. My son did this by all accounts, and in response wrote a letter to all of his victims. I was told by a reliable source that they were sent out, so as far as I know they was, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. I do know that in many cases the parents are blamed, (and I can put my hands up and admit I’m guilty of being very judgmental) but being on the other end was like a slap around my ignorant face. So this is where the next poem comes in. It comes straight from the heart of a woman who had been robbed of her motherly liberties and didn’t even realise until it was too late…
All I could think about was the heartache of the victims parents, and how my son's behaviour could turn their lives upside down. This inspired the poem, and I wrote it in letter form. It was never sent, but it was my way of dealing with the pain and guilt I carried as the mother of the perpetrator ....Heart wrenching at its best...

A letter to a mum.

 

 

Two different people

Leading two different lives

Two loving mothers

Both struggling to survive.

 

Trying to do our best.

Striving to provide

We are the teachers of right and wrong.

Oblivious to how our worlds will collide.

 

Two different people

Leading two different lives

Two loving sons

Both blessed with their mother’s drive.

 

But there, the similarities end

As they are on their journey of life

Your son’s tool was pen and paper.

My sons was a knife.

 

Innocence is a gift from God,

That my son took away

When two unknown faces were forced together

On that fateful day.

 

As I look into your eyes

And see through your evil glare.

There lies a feeling that haunts me.

It is the feel of despair.

 

I know you think it’s my fault.

On my head goes your blame.

If only it was that simple,

Then my head would be hung in shame.

 

Innocence is a gift from God,

That evil drugs took away.

That put my son before your son,

On that fateful day.

 

I am not making excuses,

For I am the teacher of right and wrong.

But my hands were tied so tightly,

When the evil drugs came along.

 

 

So, the pain that lives in your heart

I can truly sympathise.

With every beat I’m hurting too.

Just take a look into my eyes.

 

There, you will find my heartache.

So you can put away your claws.

Riddled with pain and desperation,

They are a reflection of yours.