How Can I Teach Her
A girl of twelve looks up at me
With eyes pleading for help
I long to be her hero
Teach her everything she needs to know
Hold her in my arms
Give her some hope
I long to give her the answers
To the questions in her eyes
Wipe away all her tears
Fix the broken parts of her life
Looking inside myself
I have nothing to offer
How can I teach her
What I don’t know?
I long to give her a mirror
Showing her a head of curls
Tell her of the beauty
She can achieve
But my hands are clumsy
The rollers tangle in her hair
The curls won’t stay in
She feels so plain
I long to tell her
How to stand up for herself
Unchanging when others pressure
Confident of who she is
But I still crumble
Under the weight of the slightest criticism
Wanting desperately
To be affirmed too
I long to help her love her body
To eat foods that are good
Avoid foods that are bad
Consistently exercise
But I run into the arms of comfort food
Time and time again
Instead of working out my feelings
On a treadmill or a tennis court
I long to show her how to keep her space
Neat, tidy, decorated well
Where friends will feel comfortable
She will feel proud
But my own house is a wreck
Consequences of daily neglect
We cry together
So overwhelmed
I feel so helpless
So alone
unequipped for this task
No answers to give her
So I simply hold her close
This little girl
How can I teach her
What I do not know?
With eyes pleading for help
I long to be her hero
Teach her everything she needs to know
Hold her in my arms
Give her some hope
I long to give her the answers
To the questions in her eyes
Wipe away all her tears
Fix the broken parts of her life
Looking inside myself
I have nothing to offer
How can I teach her
What I don’t know?
I long to give her a mirror
Showing her a head of curls
Tell her of the beauty
She can achieve
But my hands are clumsy
The rollers tangle in her hair
The curls won’t stay in
She feels so plain
I long to tell her
How to stand up for herself
Unchanging when others pressure
Confident of who she is
But I still crumble
Under the weight of the slightest criticism
Wanting desperately
To be affirmed too
I long to help her love her body
To eat foods that are good
Avoid foods that are bad
Consistently exercise
But I run into the arms of comfort food
Time and time again
Instead of working out my feelings
On a treadmill or a tennis court
I long to show her how to keep her space
Neat, tidy, decorated well
Where friends will feel comfortable
She will feel proud
But my own house is a wreck
Consequences of daily neglect
We cry together
So overwhelmed
I feel so helpless
So alone
unequipped for this task
No answers to give her
So I simply hold her close
This little girl
How can I teach her
What I do not know?
3 Comments:
really beautiful xox
I think all mothers feel overwhelmed with what it is we're supposed to teach. I often wonder if our own mothers were only faking it.
Piú giú, in fondo alla Tuscolana...!?...passavo per un saluto!
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