Sing, please?

When you let me know, what kind of life you have lived, I weep silently. For we are the reason why you were sent to the dumps. You do not have to pay income tax. You waste eight hours a day pondering over what could have been. Your love for teaching has not withered. But your faith has. You are not old, but you are not young either. You can't escape from this well. "I'll watch a movie with you", I say. And elation overwhelms you. But a month later, you lose hope, buy a ticket to a show, buy a small box of popcorn, buy a bottle of mineral water, and sit in the theatre while trying to enjoy your movie - alone. I have always kept my promise. But bitterness has led you to feel more impatient, more foolish, more hurt. You do not have many friends. You wish you had. We are the only friends you've got- do you not see that? But sadly, you do not see anything. You do not demolish your rights as an authority figure. You hold my hand and say, "education is most important". You do not have to tell me things I do not already know. What I want, is for you to hold my hand, like the rest, and say, " I am here for you, my dear. Whatever it is, I will try to understand- because you are my friend." You cannot bare the fact that we are drifting. Yet, you still add salt to my wounds. All this hypocrisy, I believe, would not have come about, if you had found a place where you could truly belong. You see, we are very much alike. But you no longer possess the ability to reach out. You try. I have noticed. You back down within two seconds. I will follow you, always. You will follow me, always. So when I blow you an imaginary kiss everynight, I'll whisper, "I am sorry". And when I kneel at my bedside everynight, to pray, I'll hope. I'll hope that you'll understand how much I love you.
No matter what, mom. No matter what.