Re-mother

If I was meant to re-mother the universe, would I not have been supplied with an ample amount of patience, humility, kindness, and compassion?
Torn apart by the day to day turmoils, temporary smiles, sometimes forced, make me feel occasionally human.
I dread awaiting the mess, the anger, the frustration, and the responsibility that lays before me daily.
I remember simpler times.
Happiness vanished like smoke in the night air but the celestial depths were explored on hardwood floors with candles and dried lavender.
I was getting to know this girl.
I liked her.
She didn’t have the slightest inclination that she would be 1000 years old and everyone else her junior.
This is when you water the plants.
This is how you mop the floor.
This is when you grow up.
And doing it over and over again, my throat grows weary.
Generations of humanity that were never mothered to begin with passing on generations more to learn their errors, not from their errors.
When will it end?
When the population as a whole decides to sterilize the ignorant that walk the planet?
When mass genocide terrifies children in their rooms?
When Revelations becomes fact instead of fiction?
I was not meant to re-mother the earth.
And if I was,
God help me.

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