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.