Stay humble

She would sit and cry for hours and I would not offer a second of pity for that was like giving a junkie a needle.
She would sit and laugh for hours on end alone in the dark and I would remain under my covers with my radio firmly cemented into my ears .. I would not humour her mania for that would be like encouraging a bad comedian.. oh.. It was only when she would ask me how
my day was would..?
I sit beside her, stroke her hair and allow myself to be her son.