Breadcrumbs

I think about her,
and try to grasp it,
or see from those eyes
that she passed down to me
Define the transitions
Calculate the curvature of the line
that led her to this point
A childhood marked by years of abuse,
and later, somewhere along that line,
she perpetuated it
Governed by irrational fear
But she found purpose,
in her independent daughter
and initially delicate son
While her men tried to repair her,
never knowing the great extent
of her past injuries
which only she could stitch
It was no one's fault
They couldn't fill the void,
and each of them crumbled
while she wilted like always
and fell back on her children
But today,
with her fledglings flown
She can't find her reason
or her way
Forgot to leave
the breadcrumbs
And, after all,
she looks in the mirror
every single day
and sees a victim
of circumstance