Mistakes

Mistakes are made, bridges are burned;
I myself have so much to learn.
Husbands wed, children born from that bed,
but leaving them to be raised by one parent instead.

Blaming myself, for you are no where in sight;
I don't sleep through the lonely cold nights.

Trying to live through the pain alone,
trying to create an illusion of happy home,
but inside i cry at the thought of doing it myself.
My feelings, my needs are put on a shelf.

Don't get me wrong, the sacrafices are needed
and all the cares of my children are heeded.
They make me smile, bring peace ot my life;
but this isn't what I had in mind when I said I'd be your wife.

Mistakes are made
and I'll take the blame,
but why do I have carry
to be the only one caryying the flame?
Why do I live with all the shame?