A poem written by a teenager whose parents are divorced and who only sees her mother on weekends.

Weekends, Mother

I see you during the week
But when the weekend comes – mother you are never here.
Just because at times I’m distant, cut off from you
It doesn’t mean I don’t need  you.
I get home on Friday
And you’re not here.
I know I’m not a model child
But then no child ever is
I know I’ve caused you pain
But then you always do hurt the ones you love
One Friday I’d like to get home from school
And find you here alone
I’d like to walk along the beach with you
And tell you all my dreams
I want to make you part of those dreams
Share my thoughts and feelings with you
Pick you a wildflower
And watch your hair blow in the the wind
Make you coffee and talk to you till the early
Hours of the morning
I can’t do any of these things
Because you are never here at weekends
Just one weekend with you alone, Mother
Is all I ask

About Noelene

I am a child of God's. I am also a writer. Mother Teresa once said "I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world". My objective is to be one of God's love letters to the world. I can only achieve this through His grace at work in my life.
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