A Song About Me

A few days ago, I wrote a song. Well, since I didn’t put it to music, I guess it’s a poem, but the rhyme-scheme is verrry hit-or-miss, which makes me uncomfortable. I don’t care for that modern-style poetry they have nowadays, in my mind, it has to rhyme or it’s not a fucking poem, but ANYWAY…. I posted it to a closed group so I could share it with people, but it got closed down. I still want to share it, despite the risks of offending some people. So after some careful consideration, I have decided to share it here even though a) some folks might be upset by it and b) it’s not that good of a poem. Hey, this concept woke me up in the middle of the night to make me write it down, so, here goes….

 

A Song About Me

I was raised in a home full of music
Mamma wrote songs about everything
A fight with dad, cross-country trips
Births of babies and losing her virginity,
But Mamma never wrote a song about me.

Did I cause you too much pain?
Growing up with strife and fear
Was I too hard to explain?
Did I bring too many tears?
Tell me, why’d you never write a song ‘bout me?

Mom wrote a song when Daddy died
And two songs for her own Daddy.
Mamma wrote about her sister
And the child I used to be
But Mamma never wrote a song about me.

Now it’s true I brought her sorrow
But she wrote ‘bout pain a lot
I guess I didn’t bring enough
Pain or joy to earn a my spot
‘Cause Mamma never wrote a song about me.

There’s no question Mamma loved me
There’s no question Mamma cared
But the woman I turned out to be
Must’ve had her running scared
‘Cause Mamma never wrote a song ‘bout me.

My flaws are all too obvious
Though my skills can’t be denied
But for forty of her sixty years
I’m the one who made her cry.
Is that why Mamma never wrote a song ‘bout me?

I’m the reason I’m an only child
I know that much for sure
But perhaps she felt betrayed
By a child who never quite matured.
‘Cause Mamma never wrote a song ‘bout me.

Mom wrote songs ‘bout parenting
And Mom wrote songs ‘bout being tough
Songs of laughter, songs of tears,
But I guess I wasn’t good or bad enough
For Mom to write a song about me.

Did I cause you too much pain?
Growing up with strife and fear
Was I too hard to explain?
Did I bring too many tears?
Tell me, why’d you never write a song ‘bout me?