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Your mother

A parody on a stage
Spotlighted by her audience.
Sweat beads on their brows and somehow there's a sore distance

In the room, as each is focussed solely on their lines,
Hovering on the floor until;
"Oh my! Is that the time?"

She exits stage left, the stage leaves, the lights are on.
We stand, we play, we talk, we laugh,
We shake hands, then we're gone.

There's difficulty in relationships,
And in that, beauty.
A source of inspiration can be found when bound by duty

To another, like when his mother's a bitch in caught in her own trap.
Just be polite, smile your smiles, and go play football out the back.
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Submitted on January 25, 2021

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    "Your mother" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 25 Jul 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/61001/your-mother>.

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