In shadows cast by a mother’s unkind light
Whispers of judgment, hidden from sight
In the pews of reverence, her words cut deep
Veiled by raised hands, her secrets to keep
Her gaze, a mirror reflecting her frown
A world painted dark, where flaws abound
In her eyes, a skewed reality unfurled
Where kindness was scarce, in a judgmental world
But beneath the surface of her critical view
A child learned a lesson, old but new
That love wears masks, in deceptive guise
And behind every smile, a truth belies
Yet in this tale of shadows and pain
A heart seeks solace, a soul to regain
For in the depths of darkness, a light does gleam
A hope for a kinder, gentler dream
So rise above the echoes of the past
Forge a path, where kindness will last
Break free from the chains of harsh decree
And in your grace, let love reign free
Every single day, my mother relentlessly criticized everything and everyone. From mocking people at church for their attire and hairstyles to belittling their intelligence. She even disparaged the singers’ voices, insisting they shouldn’t be performing. On the journey to church, she found fault in the road signs, drivers, and the color of cars, and on the way back, she dissected every aspect of the service, sometimes for hours on end. Not a day passed without her passing judgment on something or someone else. This was my normal.
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