Here’s to all the mothers who didn’t know how to love.
Heres to all the children who were able to rise above
Heres to all survivors, and those who don’t quit
who find the will and the way to persist
who still love, and have learned to resist
the pull, and the call of those who dismissed
who wake every day with inquiring minds
who live with purpose, not knowing what they’ll find
who stumble and sometimes fall behind
and get right back up, keep grinding the grind
heres to writers, who need to express
whats in their hearts when they’re a bloody mess
And, if like me, you hate fake holidays
keep kindness in your heart every single day
I’m nobody’s mother, and happy to be
for motherhood was never for me.