What To Do Poem by Tessa Hanson

What to do, what to do, what do I do with my life and what do I do with you. You can’t be righteous, you can’t tell the truth, tell me what am I supposed to do?
Should I tell you were through, when I’m sitting here 8 months pregnant by you? Tell me what I’m supposed to do.
Tell me how to do it and when I should, tell me if you were I then you would, leave your butt because you’re really no good.
Tell me what to do with your lies I keep, tell me how I can get a good nights sleep, tell me that you are worth counting all these sheep; Tell me you won’t be the reason that I get weak, tell me that I won’t give in to defeat.
Tell me that I can still stand on my own, tell me that I can do it alone, tell that to your son when he is grown.
Tell your child that you couldn’t figure out what to do, tell your son that in the walk of life you forgot a shoe, tell him that the walk just too much for you.
He wasn’t enough to get you through, he wasn’t a good enough reason for you to be true, he wasn’t enough reason for you to fight, he wasn’t enough for you to do right.
Tell me how to show him how to be a man, tell me how I can take a stand, against his father and quit holding his hand. How can I stop enabling your fits? How can I make sure I never take another hit? ? Sorry son, but your mother had a slip, at the hands of your father because he couldn’t quit.
So I gave in and took a chance not worth taking, at hurting the only thing in my life not worth forsaking.
I promise you son I will do all I can to do what is right for you but my heart can be so hard to contradict. I love that man you call your father, that worthless hypocrite. I swear to you this feeling makes me sick, and while you’re inside me your more prone to what mom may never be able to fix. But I promise to keep you as safe as I can, but please son I hope you understand one day why I did what I had to do, I loved the man that created you, and I will never deny what to this day is true, he is your father and I owe that to you. He is a flippin’ junkie child; tell me what is a mother to do?