I am picking up the doormat,
It’s really very hard to do.
Years of stamping feet have
Flattened its pile
Embedded it into the floor.
Years of fighting your fights
When we were children.
Making sure you were safe
And as you grew up so did your
Demands on me, they grew too.
You set your cap at my husband,
Given the choice, of course he’d choose you?
Laid out on a plate he asked.
How he could resist such an offer?
The pair of you went on to break my heart.
Hey! But it was OK because you found your Christian Faith again.
Now God forgives you all your transgressievenns ,
Without you even feeling sorry.
No remorse lives inside your heart!
Your footsteps crushed my spine again and again and again.
Still it wasn’t enough, childless yourself
You wanted mine for yours..
How badly you tried to be a mother
To boys who already had one.
Criticism, always knowing how it could be done better.
How many of those books did you read?
At last it is coming up now, look at all it’s grime.
This doormat is a symbol of a life
That was truly mine.
You are playing at being Grandma
To my grandchildren who already have me.
I am cutting you free and with it the lies and deceit.
You’re almost sixty, time to finally grow up,
To admit you look your age not thirty two!
To realise when you gain weight it’s because
You are unhappy with your life!
The worm has turned, finally cast you off
Like the parasite you are.
So I give you the doormat it is after all
Of your own making.
Take it with you into your brave new future,
Your Walter Mitty life. Where karma will be
Waiting for you no matter what you do.
Revenge always a dish best served cold
At a dinner party of your own making.
Sleep well little sister, now you possess
Your heart’s desire and be careful what you wish for next!
© Carolina de la Cruz – The Vixen of Verse 2015