Mothers And Daughters

Why does it seem as I grow old,

The years speed on their way,

I seem more like my mother,

With all the things I say.


When I was young and on my own,

My mother seemed so square,

I rolled my eyes and told myself,

Iím never going there.

I am no longer in control,

Or so it seems to be,

I have become my motherís girl,

Thatís what they all tell me.


I have her mannerisms,

Her laughter and her voice,

No one thought to ask me,

I didnít have a choice.


I only wish that I had said,

While she was here to see,

If I can be just like you Mom,

Thatís what I want to be.


© 2002  Loree (Mason) OíNeil


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