Mum

When i look at her i think thats my mum,
she looks at me and thinks I'm dumb,
before she even stops to think,
she fills the glass, another drink,
i look again and realize,
its on her face, its in her eyes.

counting them on, one, two, three,
doesn't she care for my family and me,
the bottles now empty, she needs more,
she stands up, she hits the floor,
over to me to care for her,
i know we'll never be truly together.

she wont admit, she always denies,
i hate it; i hate the lies,
when i was younger i couldn't defend,
but now I'm older and its near to the end,
if only shed let us all help her,
everything would get better and better.

*this was my hope, but it didn't happen, i don't talk to my mum or see her anymore. i just wanted to put this on here for anyone who is in this position, just so you know there are others going through the same. she just loved the alcohol more than her family.*