by Abigail F. Taylor

She's never fussed over anyone,
in all the years she's given care
for her children, and her stoic husband
she's never fussed.

She's always known what to do
with her blue veined hands,
smooth for her age.

Her children have spoiled themselves,
forgotten how blood ties work
and they fuss over her,

they fuss over everything.
But only for a moment.
It takes too much energy to think of her.

Poor mother,
she never fussed over anyone.

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