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My hopes for a Princess

I hope she gets amnesia, but not from a cracked skull
I hope she loses her memories, only the days that have been dull.

Because if she gets amnesia, I know she will forget
the many days, I have yelled and screamed — days I so regret.

If she has no memory, and cannot recall
I won’t feel so bad, when I lashed out and she did nothing wrong at all.

Nor will she remember or even have the history
of times when I snatched her up, her little tears I still see.

Damn, I sure hope she forgets it all, and cannot remember a thing
Like the times when I came home from work and my classroom I did bring.

I would be bitter, anger and resentful — just because she was a child.
To angry to have enjoyed her pleasantness and sweet smile.

But hopefully she will forget, my days of short temperedness.
And maybe she’ll remember the days so full of bliss.

But those ar now much too short, too few and far between
And all she can think of is a mother who yells and is mean.

Gee, I do so hope her memory fades of shouts, barks and bites
and books I refused to read her on my tired and burnt out nights.

I will assume she won’t forget, how awful I could be,
But I will persist in being the kind of mother that she craves and needs.


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