My mom had me,
she had me alone.
There once was a dad of course,
but now he is long gone.
At first, I used to ask her,
where he was at.
She would look at me with sad eyes,
and reply I should forget.
Of course, is no easy thing,
To be born without a dad.
But worst it would be,
If my mom had also left.
So now it's just us,
as it always has been.
She is the most beautiful person,
that I have ever seen.
She has brown eyes
and fluffy curly hair.
Her hugs make me feel,
As I belong everywhere.
Her words are sweet,
and her smell is the best.
We sleep in the same bed,
and share everything.
If I didn’t have her,
I couldn’t imagine what life
would've been.
About the Creator
M.E
I tell stories and write books!
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Wow, what a beautiful poem. I'm so in love with your rhyme scheme here; it flows perfectly. A truly wonderful read. 😊