Intentions...

She pored over page after page, 
Her script notes all over the table. 
An unseen organized pattern
in the seemingly random mess.
she was tired, frustrated
planing a Scene and a dinner
in her head.

She got up and went to cook,
the Script on her mind all the while.
her face lined with years of fatigue,
her eyes, legends of sleepless nights,
she placed the evening's bread on the table
once fed and satisfied
the family went to bed, 
leaving the frustrated woman to the kitchen.
finally, almost dead, she walked back to her Script,
waiting to find solace and familiarity
in her organized mess.

And her eyes widened 
and her temper rose, breaking her taunt nerves,
As she surveyed the little pile of all her papers.
"Who" she yelled, "Dared to touch my papers?"
inwardly she cringed at the thought 
of having to sort all over again...

And from the doorway
came a tiny, scared wobbly voice..
"I did"
the little girl stood, shaking in her bunny slippers
As her mother screamed at her 
for what seemed like an eternity
her tiny eyes prickled with unspilt tears
and the throat felt like a lemon was stuck there

"Why!" her mother yelled "Why did you do that?
Why do you make life ten times more difficult!!"

"But mommie..." She trembled,
"you were tired, I just wanted to help.."

and a tear slid....
from two eyes, over two cheeks...
one, of a little ten year old,
the other, of a little thirty year old...