A “Momma’s Boy”, she called me,
in a condescending tone,
as though loving with my mother
should mean romantically alone.
To love and to be loved;
Is this not our blood and toil?
You do not understand it,
you are selfish and unloyal.
The only ones who’ve loved me,
the women that are true,
were the women I was born with;
Bonds of blood, genetic glue.
You do not know her kindness;
Selfless ever-giving woe.
Judging by your judgement,
A mother’s love you do not know.
A “Momma’s Boy”, she called me,
as though I should be insulted.
Go find a man who hates his mother,
and find yourself assaulted.
