Words never to be spoken

These words, are for you, mother. They are left in the hope that once given form, they will cease to haunt me. I know not if this is an act of mercy, sparing you heartahce. For I know you will never read this. Or one of cowardice, after all I am your son! What follows is some of the many questions I wanted to ask you, but never did. So I shall start, while I possess neither the kindness or lack of courage that stopped me before. I would ask, if you ever forgave pops and grandma for fighting so hard to get us out of those foster homes? And why did you never ask how we were treated? I also wonder why you decided to have another child, after failing the ones you already had. With four kids, and four fathers, was any of us actually wanted? What is the name of my father, and why did you never speak of him? After all the times you abandoned us, to run to some stranger's bottle, why did you keep coming back? As a child I had this naive hope that WE were the reason. But I now think you never came back at all. You were forced back. After inevitably being caught stealing and lying, you had nowhere else to go. And why after all the changing seasons and passing years, you act as none of this happened? And finally. When you stop and look around and see no one standing beside you, do you lament? The child loved you unconditionally. You will never know that this man, mother, has nothing but pity for you.