the gift of freedom.

the gift of freedom.

The reason she hated me never made sense.
In her head, I committed some great offense.
Her cruel, harsh words were a mystery at first.
I only lived my life, chased my dreams, not hers.

I even sympathized when her life took a wrong turn.
I listened. I made her laugh. And I supported her.
I always took her calls even when I needed sleep.
Funny, she never answered mine when I was in need.

When she asked for favors, I gave her my best.
Soon I had helped her more than I ever helped myself.
Finally, the day came when my miracle arrived,
But she made it about her instead of this new life.

Still, I accepted her – I may never know why.
I pushed aside my feelings that were screaming inside.
I thought I was doing the right thing. I was so sure.
I learned to ignore myself so I could be there for her.

Finally, her actions took the whole thing too far.
It seemed that her mission was to break my heart.
She thought she’d make me disappear just like she wanted,
But I would never go despite the way she taunted.

She chose hate but that didn’t get rid of me.
Did she really think I’d give up my family?
If she wanted to avoid me, she would have to leave,
And when she made her choice, it was a huge relief.

Now every party, every holiday feast
Is a celebration with Mom, two sisters, and me.
They all tried to reason with her, but it didn’t help.
No one asked her not to come, she chose that path herself.

All contact disappeared or it became quite rare.
I admit, I enjoy it – never having her there.
Without her angry bitterness, we have much more fun.
I doubt she’ll ever understand. She still thinks she won!

Her reason to resent me all these long years
Still sounds ridiculous to everyone who hears.
Because I had my son before she had a baby,
Before her, she says, how dare I start a family!

Her desire to hurt me, her jealousy
Blew up in her smug face and stopped affecting me.
It was better now that we didn’t see each other –
Better for me, but she did hurt our mother

Parents want their children to get along.
I hated what she did – blaming me, hurting Mom
But we all knew the truth – I did nothing too her.
Yet it got even worse when I had my little girl!

She alienated herself to avoid me.
I don’t know how she feels, but I feel free.
She may never know this, but what she has done
Is give me the precious, beautiful gift of freedom.

~Writing 101 | Poetry | day 5

About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Hawaii where she could learn to surf. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.
This entry was posted in bloggingu, family, personal, poetry, writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to the gift of freedom.

  1. magarisa says:

    What a beautiful, moving poem! Thank you for taking me on this emotional journey with you.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. R 'I' P says:

    A journey well penned down.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. helendep says:

    I’m sure that chimes with anyone who has been through strife with siblings or girlfriends. You certainly speak for my experience! If you don’t know it, check out Bob Dylan’s Positively 4th Street. Fantastic to play really loud when you’re feeling let down or betrayed!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. beingmepresently says:

    Beautiful poem. I’m glad you feel free but make sure you let go and forgive too as these things have a habit of eating us up inside. X

    Like

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