I’m sorry I can’t tell you what

I’m sorry I can’t tell you what
I’m sure you’d rather hear,
But there’s a burden in my heart
I can no longer bear.
There’s an anger I must cross
Before I come to you
And make my peace with who you are,
And try your soul anew.

I know I wasn’t what you wanted
When you wanted me,
A healthy, happy baby girl
You could raise easily.

I was born impaired, and you
Have never understood
That what I am is whole and fair
And beautiful and good.

You were sorry, first for me
And then for you, and wept,
But I would not be me without
The fact that I am deaf.

I am a gift to celebrate
And not a cause to grieve.
As a child this was what
I needed to believe.

I needed but a different road
To reach the common goal,
But you decided there were things
I couldn’t do at all.

And rather than accept what life
Had given in its grace,
You looked at what life had withheld
And turned from its embrace.

Ah, Mother! How you injured me
By what you would not own!
To love myself I had to leave
And make my way alone,

And have my children in the course
Of what I would become,
But always, always looking back
To where I had no home.