My desires have gone and left

That a worth never came through

It is now that I have matured

And now see it right

Younger did I know nothing

I thought I knew everything

But I think that person was a fool

Laughable and never had a thing right

My mother eager to live my life with me

Wanting to see me grow

But I felt my growing has stopped

My stature will forever be short

Wanting not to be the little one

Who will not do half of what the others do

I best believe it is right

To follow where her children before me have gone

But they never walked there

My mother proud she got her child

So happy like she is now

That child was taken by silent luck and chance

To that cottage house upon the hill

Her heartbroken and needing repair

She was then healed when she made another child

With the same name as the one before

But there was no difference

The cottage house was open

Things happen, they happen, it happens

That child is there too

Even more distraught

Like another one, she cannot make

She then was happier, happier

That she made a third before the time would come

That she cannot make any more

And so it takes the name of the last two

And they are the one telling it all now

I last longer than they did

I had made a living, unlike them

When they were taken to the cottage house swiftly

I am surprised that it was me who has gone better

But that benefit does not make me proud

Everything I have done is all for nothing

Even when she cheered about what she saw was so big

I was there without a smile

Nothing is working

Nothing can help

Nothing, it is nothing, not one thing

The help around me is of false word

They have not seen what I saw

And so they have no experience

They have not how they fixed it

I am crowded in nothingness

Without a word to describe it as

My mother cannot make another child

With the same name, I and they have

The third would like to take a trip to the cottage house

Where everything is shut

Where mother cannot beg me out

She can knock on that door all she would like

But all she is knocking on wood

Not to a prouder heart

I talked with the two

They are not happy with my choice

But they accept that it is me

That they cannot leave the cottage house

Even if they never wanted to come

Even if they never knew what it was like to live there

I want to be behind locked doors

My mother was a good woman

It was me that did the wrong

She will be proud if I tell her

To join me at the visit

Where we can be close while we get there

Because she was overtaken

That I want nothing more in this life

And that her old self

Was going to get to the cottage house anyway

Someday she would have to accept

Her turn getting there could be any day

I have felt it would come close

Seeing how it would be for the first and the second

But I do not want her to know by seeing it

I want her to know on her own

How her child went to the other house

To talk with their siblings

Now she has to wait before they see us once more

She will be the proudest ever

Not such thing, no equivalent

When she sees all of us


I do not even want to say goodbye

That is one word too many

I will go there in silence

As I chose to do it like no one else

It will be no promise

That I will be back