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Shortly after I published the poem"Abuse may Stop"  to Facebook with a security setting of private in a group that was the women of my family exclusively.  Not to the public at all.  Soon after (within 15 minutes)  my ex-mother-in-law asked me on Facebook if I gave any thought to how this poem about her son would hurt her and my daughters.  Look at the poem in my previous post.  Do you see any names? Do you see any physical descriptions of any one person?  I thought it highly ironic that they instantly recognized someone who was never named or described.  This leads me to believe that my testimony about a previous relationship resounded with a truth they don't wish to acknowledge.  I write poetry as an avenue of releasing my stress, anger, and pain.  That one in particular had a devastating effect.  Which I wrote about below.  I no longer share my poetry with my family.  They have no interest in hearing my feelings.  I am only useful when I provide them with something.  For one in particular who made it very clear that  now that she is married and had a baby she was an adult and expected to be treated as one (which I find extremely humorous since she is driving the car that I gave her, covered by insurance I pay for, and watching Hulu+ which I also pay for.) Yeah, she doesn't need me at all.  Proven by the verbal beat down that I received when I visited her at the hospital when she had her daughter.  No matter what I said she told me I was wrong, passive aggressive, patronizing and guilt tripping just to name a few.  She very specifically told me that she was an adult and had no need of me at all.  In that few minutes she crushed me with a verbal boulder.  My excitement at seeing my granddaughter for the first time and then being told that I couldn't hold her and then her verbal barrage took a day I was so excited for and pissed on it and threw it back in my face.  Even now I can't write this because the tears cloud my eyes.  My oldest on the other hand just closed her Facebook account and refuses to speak to me.  My middle daughter, the reasonable one, corresponded and allowed me to explain the poem and it's purpose and that I intended no harm.  I was actually thinking it was a decent poem and I only wanted their opinion.  Stupid me.  Anyway, just to prove my point I give this poem as a testament to my idiocy.

I Wrote a Poem One Day

I wrote a poem one day

That literally blew my whole world away

 Two of my children have shut me out

For a perceived slight that they saw without doubt

Even though I named no names

They said they knew the subject of my claims

The poem was a work of fiction

But my family still handed down my conviction

Then not too much to my surprise

They swiftly moved to ostracize

They shut me out and within a few minutes

 They declared themselves to be off limits

It’s so hard to believe that some words on a page

Could provoke and push them into such a rage

There was no motive to assess blame

The poem was meant to help someone in pain.

I must stand by my purpose to give hope with what I wrote

And I intended to do it with no sugarcoat.

Kathy Wilson

November 16, 2012