With Paintbrush In Hand

My mom use to say,
'Boy, bite your lip! '
I didn't know then what that meant...
So I did it.
To keep my tongue from moving!
And I believe this is when I began to write on walls.
My mother had to paint over them.
Since what I had to say...
Offended anyone who came to visit.
I was six or seven years old then.
A man in a little boy's body.
And my mom took pride,
In how well my sister and I...
Were well disciplined.
But I discovered my mother in tears often.
With paintbrush in hand.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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