“A mother tears”

A mother tears.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry


For my dear mother. Woman bare the glory and honor of protecting their children. Look into a eyes of a woman. You can learn a million stories of what life is.











A  mother tears

She was a beauty.

My mother was 5 foot 8 inches in height.

She was a  slim young lady with dreams and hope.

She didn’t listen to her parent.

She marry a man with rage and hate as his strength.

No-one would hear her cries or scream for help.

No-one would see the bruises and mental abuse given.

My step-father rarely hit her where the bruises could be seen.

He has a smile and good nature till he drank and hated everyone.

Step-father blamed the world for his screw-up life.

He told me he never had a fair chance.

His anger could not be controlled.

Wars and life left him pissed off and hateful.

I remember trying to help my mother.

I was 4 or 5 years old and try to separate and protect her.

He tossed me across the room.

She would try to fight back.

I could hear her cries as he hit her.

He was too powerful.

I was afraid even as a child he would kill her.

One evening a 23 year woman with two kids boarded

a Greyhound bus and they went to New Mexico.

She hid there doing waitress work for cash money.

We didn’t come back to Michigan for years.

Step-father marry again and abused  more woman.

I learn never to hit a woman the hard way.

Back then woman didn’t have safe houses.

Today I pray we don’t allow fear and abuse to be hidden.

Woman and children need safe houses and protection.

My dear mother was a strong woman. She lived with hidden pain. She

complained only once time to me. My Uncle was dying and she was taking care of him.

She turned to me. My rapist. I must take care of. He raped me many times and your

Grandparent didn’t believe. I asked her why would she help this man? She told me. I promised

your Grandma. I would take care of him. My mother is still alive and does not speak of these days.

My mother is a strong woman. I do not ask questions. Hidden places need to lay dead for us to

live and go forward. Thanks to my dear Mother. I trusted no-one with my children and I was right.

Mother is still beautiful and kind. I believe the pain of a child left her protected. Hard to know trust

when it was stolen away. Today we must listen. I watch with great concern my children. I know I can’t

control their life. Just teach them how to be safe and live a good life. My mother taught me many lessons.

Lead with love and have a lot of fun.