A Nice Mean


Admittedly my mother’s quick to see
the problem with whatever’s in her view.
She schooled me from my infancy to be
expressly judge and jury. “Loving you,
I feel I have the right to let you know
the ways you can improve yourself. You should
do this, wear that, et cetera” she’d throw
at me. “I’m saying this for your own good.”

Where Mother loved she bettered, she’d assert,
and if she said that once she said it twice.
The woman never grasped how much it hurt –
I wonder would it kill her to be nice?
It’s not that she’s too mean to die. It’s more
she has too many folks to fix before.

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