For the Step Moms

Where, I wonder, is the sign

where we have truly won?

When fathers, true, provide for you

without the deadbeat pun?

Where the roles are switched for truth

and mothers who have toiled

falsely through their baring teeth

for riches, truth be soiled.

We watch in helpless anguish,

our husbands, before the judge,

torn asunder by the thunder

of the ex's mud-

-slinging forth, like falling skies,

not a place to hide.

We tell ourselves to stand our ground ,

"for them" we stepmoms survive.

We love them unconditionally,

the children and our man.

Even when the mudslinging

blinds the judge at hand.

We love them when our shattered worlds

crash and burn to ash.

We never stop standing with them

for the hours in the sand

only trickle closer towards

the ground as time moves on.

Vilified, we wait until

Mom's time is surely done.