
About my biological mother. Nothing fancy. Rather cliche. What a pity...Inspired by another without a name that I can recall...
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Poetry - Words: 259 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 07-12-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2389546
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Reflections in a Glass Bottle
So with the silver rum bottle in my hand
I think back to a small hamper
White and woven
Pure
Full of dirty clothing
And memories…
It held this tainted glass bottle
The one that washed my mother in filth
Along with my memories
It was the one that made her scream
The one that made me cry
The one that made me fear
But it was also through this bottle
That I found maturity
That I grew
That I was molded
Into the person that I am now
It was through this bottle that I
Found Christ
And scorned the devil
And yet fell into temptation
For although I never drank from it
My mother did.
The smell of the inner liquid is causing nausea
And so are the memories…
I needed to put it down
But I couldn't help let my eyes glaze over
And fix back to those nights
When I was all alone
With a mother that let this bottle
Control her life
And her every move
The nights that shattered my hopes
And yet created new ones of future life
That I wished for
And responsibilities were taught to me through that bottle
I know how to treat people
Or how not to at least
And I must now turn away from this bottle
The label
And the memories
Today I must go on
The past is gone
The future is ahead
I am walking
And running
And finding new memories
After my reflections in this glass bottle.
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