Mother

(Non-Traditional Sonnet)

What is it to make you pleased?

I sit here and cry at words you’ve said

And yet it’s impossible for you to even ease

The tone you throw at me.

What is it to become better then best in your eyes?

Am I to look at others and lie,

like you have for so many years?

Then after you tire from mental harassment, join you husband and his beer.

Do you pick on me, and not my brother,

Because that’s what others and your mother

Tended to do to you?

And if so why make me blue too?

I’ve tried to make you happy with me,

But now I want my life to be what I see.