The Day I Hate

Some days I’ve learned to dread
More than all the rest,
Difficult to get through
I try my very best.
The day I hate most of all
Always comes in May,
It happens each and every year
We call it Mother’s Day.
In church they’re given flowers
At home a handmade card,
Dad making everyone some lunch
Kids playing in the yard.
Reminds me what I do not have
Instead of what I do,
A little one to give a hug
And say, “Mom, I love you”.
Tomorrow I will live again
Just let me mourn this day,
I pray that I can make it
Through another Mother’s Day.

~Susan Reardon