“Oh, What Is A Mother To Do?” Poem

What happened to my precious little girl?

The happy-go-lucky child who glistened like strings of pearls

The person she once was has long since gone

If she’s still in there, she’s far, far beyond

Or, perhaps, my daughter I knew so well

Unable to escape her relentless living Hell

Who’s every waking moment is engulfed by mortal fear

Is hiding deep inside herself somewhere far not near

Her entire being has been crushed into submission

By this insatiable fiend

This colossus which inhabits her is OCD

Omnipresent and insatiably mean

 

Oh, What Is A Mother To Do?

I’ll take her to see the doctors

For this I am sure

They will have the answer

Then she’ll suffer no more

Surely they can cure her from this dreadful disease

I say to them, time and time again,

Help me cure her, won’t you please?

Oh, What Is A Mother To Do?

To my horror, these doctors don’t have a clue

They need to blame someone, so they blame her too

They become exasperated by their dismal results

Then proclaim, ‘she can’t be helped!’

They then, ultimately, leave us to fend for ourselves

 

Oh, What Is A Mother To Do?

As my child’s OCD spirals out of control

When with every moment of her precious life

This monster is taking a horrific toll

Her endless rituals, her endless pain

Why is there no answer?

As if her life is simply a game!

 

Oh, What Is A Mother To Do?

Daily four plus hour, ritualistic showers

Using her nails like claws

She scrubs her perfect skin raw

All to rid herself of this invisible foe

What else do I do?

Where else do I go?

To end this cycle and all these horrific woes?

…Oh, What Is A Mother To Do?

 


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