Never will his mother earn the right to see him,
Wallowed as she is inside
Her mind’s recital of the reasons he’s not with her,
And blame’s a great game to play when you’re
The only participant,
As the rest of the protagonists have cheated throughout.
And if she’s drinking on and off then it would appear
She’s more upon
The path to the edge of her particular board,
And likely to fall further before she passes GO,
Still collecting money every time she rolls around
With which to fuel her addictions and add more
To the fires
That burn within and sunder any hope of finishing.
That winning is even an option has been forgotten
The rules that were approved before the start,
As if building a bolt hole for the heart on free parking
Than shoring up the relationships at home,
And that is where the heart lives and not at the
Bottom of bottles
That she has used to replace her kids with.