She looked at me with weeping eyes
No words came out, no uttered lies
I gazed at her and listened close
Her ashen skin, white as a ghost
“Son”
Her voice was weak
“Where will you be when things get bleak”
Her lips,
they quivered,
strained with thought
“Care for my body, illness fought?”
Her hair had lost it’s sunset shine
“Son, where will you be
when it’s my time?”
Her chest it rose with ragged breath
“Hold my hand in time of death?”
“Oh son, my son, my lovely son”
“Remember me when I am gone?”
“My love, my wisdom, my warm filled touch”
“My son I know I wasn’t much”
I know
We had our fights
You ran off crying on some nights
At times I wasn't there
I know
“But my son, I watched you grow”
“From boy to man, you blossomed so”
“You’re young and strong, and bold”
“Care for me when I grow old?
“Care for me, your heart of gold?”
Know this rare a love
Know
you’ll always be enough
And I'll look over from above
A sons love is oh so rare
A thousand jewels cannot compare
A son that loves me so
Is rare
So rare
So rare
With every single graying hair.
About the Creator
Matthew Perel
An inspiring horror writer and poet I have been writing since I could hold a crayon. Taking inspiration from the likes of H.P. Lovecraft, Mary Shelly, and Edgar Poe I strive to fabricate a tale to follow you into your dreams.
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