Helpless

Shaken, spilling
but not because
of the most obvious or likely--
no, not--
stupid decisions,
stupid consequences;
it's a world of give and take,
reaping and sowing,
but sometimes...
sometimes the reaping
reaps at my heart,
my stomach,
my insides,
my being.
Sometimes the reaping
of others' sowing
is what really does us in.

So much effort,
my all
poured out and in,
only to be smushed and
dumped...

so why am I not angry?
Why is it that truly,
when it's their sowing
and their reaping,
that my heart breaks?

I've never known love like this,
and who'd have thought
it would come as a result
of the smiles and the
falls
falls
falls
falls
falls
of my kids.

Helpless, and aching,
wanting to pick up the pieces,
wanting to piece it all together again,
but in the end,
I can't.
Plus, it wouldn't help anyway.
God be with them.
God be with us all.