Change Affecting Generations

isn’t it so crazy how all the abuse and all the pain

keeps getting passed to each generation in vain

it’s stopping here with me and my whole generation

no excuses will ever justify this fucked up situation

all I ever wanted was to be loved for who I am

honestly, in my whole life, nobody gave a damn

my own family never saw me for who I grew to be

but I know my son has always loved me for being me

he never doubted or questioned that I had his back

always proving to me I placed him on the right track

we lost his dad and to this day it hurts so I have to grieve

because I know it wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t leave

it’s easy to say that if I’d stayed we’d be a happy family

happiness is an expensive gift, but our misery is always free

my son, he had to grow up so fast because of all my pain

I’m sorry, for him, it wasn’t just limited to physical disability

the worst pain comes from the wounds found deep inside of me

my son deserves much better than what I’m able to give him

I’m not talking about before, I mean the mess we’re currently in

the chaos of running from one fire just to put out another

at times these past few years I felt incapable as a mother

but even in those darkest of days he never stopped loving me

thank you God because that boy is my light shining brightly

it hurts to think of the things I tried, I hope he’ll never know

I was weak, didn’t want to live no more, I just felt I had to go

I knew it wasn’t up to me, even before he came along

so why the fuck did I try to sing that same old fucked up song?

such a selfish thing to do, he deserves a whole lot better

I get so damned depressed knowing it doesn’t even matter

how much I try, how many times I make a new disguise

all I find is that my dreams don’t come true, it’s no surprise

and it kills me, the way I feel inside, but then here he comes

puts his arms around me tight and shows me that I’m loved

if all the suffering I’ve endured is in exchange for him

no way I’ll trade my son’s love, not for any one of them

you know the ones, those forever condemning me

the imperfect examples telling me how I’m supposed to be

if the world stopped spinning tomorrow, I know I’d be just fine

because I ended the cycle of abuse, I did it for real this time

©August 4, 2014

©August 4, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

I know I’ll be just Fine (I Love that Son of Mine)

what in the world can I possibly do?

I need a miracle and I need it soon

God, that’s why I keep coming to you

there’s nothing that I haven’t tried

nothing that I haven’t applied

no more time left for me to bide

no one but my son I can confide

everyone else I’ve loved has lied

most of my family thinks I’m whining

I’m sure almost all of them think I’m lying

my son’s the only one who knows I’m trying

none of them have any right to judge me

I don’t want or need anyone’s sympathy

or pity, both are weak and weak isn’t appealing

what I would like is just a little understanding

and I would love to benefit from planning

instead of waiting to take another fall

I’d be happy to benefit even if it’s small

with respect to benefit, I’ll take about anything

I’d love to be able to look forward to something

as long as we’re speaking of the word respect

that’s the one thing I never seem to get

but I’m never, ever running low on regret

and it doesn’t matter how much I attempt

everyone will always easily forget

anything kind or worthwhile I’ve done

whether for strangers or for loved ones

I’m judged by my circumstances or on

what I do or say caused by all the frustration

no one comprehends my desperation

to be someone who’s just able to function

I try so hard to do the best with what I’ve got

for too fucking long it’s not been a lot

I wish I was the one who’d been shot

because I feel, see and know a whole lot

about the motives and constant deceit

that my family has plotted and given to me

I don’t care about what other people think

but it’s hard to not care about my family

apparently for them it comes pretty easy

I wish I could pretend to always be happy

most of them don’t even know the real me

and really, the real me is impossible to see

through the armor I wear in order to save me

there has been times I removed it completely

it’s a shame, when I do, I get hurt immediately

when I was a child my dad did it repeatedly

my step-dad made my mom choose him or me

not only when I was young, he did it recently

it’s not like I expected to be treated differently

even my son sees how fucked up they treat me

he said the same words that I've been thinking

“it’s like they set you up to fail,” he said to me

then, at such an emotionally hard moment

he said what I needed to hear and he meant it

he sees and knows me for who I really am

he said he knew I’d never do that to him

“because you’re a good mom” and I knew then

despite how terrible things and people have been

my life will be worth living as long as I have him

©July 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Planting Seeds

back and forth, like a boat, here we go

round and round so fast about to blow

pushing me like you don’t even know

that I’m plotting different ways to go

I need to be loved, I deserve respect

instead my life’s been full of neglect

setting me up to fail, your pet project

when I do leave you’ll show no regret

inside I’m torn between different needs

resenting the fact I always concede

my progress stops as your needs impede

can’t keep doing this, I’m planting a seed

watching the fruit of my life start to grow

while watching you stockpile your ammo

if I don’t leave this fucking freak show

we’ll both be stuck forever in limbo

sick of saying, “sorry,” it’s getting old

you don’t show emotion, you’re too cold

even when I call your bluff you won’t fold

I can’t stand to look at you, truth be told

the fruit is ripe enough for me to go

you won’t notice because you’re hollow

you’ll blame me, because you can’t swallow

your pride, all you have is your ego

©July – Tamar Imes-Nicholas

I said please...

I appreciate anyone who has come to view my blog. Especially if they read any of my work. I would be, even, more appreciative if people would start following my blog. Not for the same reason most YouTubers, Bloggers or Twitterers ask people to follow them, which is for financial gain. I would like people to follow my blog so I could feel important. You know, be somebody. Seriously, I'm pathetic.

No, I just want to know if there's anyone on the planet who actually likes my work. If someone chooses to follow me, my assumption would be that they liked something they read.

Then again, it could mean that they hated my work and chose to follow me so that they could reply to what I post and tell me, exactly, how much I suck.

Either way, I'm cool with it as long as they follow me. Come on, please. I don't have any friends and I feel so alone and, and, and... Hey, wait up. I've got money.