Marco Di Caprio

“Mother, you had me
But I never had you.
I wanted you
You didn’t want me.
So I’ve gotta say goodbye”
(John Lennon)

The issue is the mother’s indifference,
the one who taught you what you lacked.
She gave you things, but not her fire,
she raised the man, but not desire.
She built you strong, but left you mute,
a tree of silence, without roots.

So when a bright young woman came,
you whispered “Mama” in her name.
But she just laughed, embraced, then fled,
and left your heart half-alive, half-dead.
She stole your peace, your sleep, your grace,
and called it fate, a holy place.

You fall again, because you miss
the one who never gave you warmth.
Your heart still digs that same old land,
the child still calls with empty hand.
You want a mother within your love,
but love’s no mother.

It’s a glove
that burns the hand, then cools the skin,
and teaches you to live within.