For my Mother

A little poem I wrote for my mom

Oh my mother, we’re not so different

You and I

I’ve been poked and prodded

And told that I would die

The scars on your hands

Are somewhere in mine


We’ve been in hell

Where the black waves crash

Prayed not to be swallowed

But to be turned into ash

The song in your lungs

Rings in my ears and sounds

From my tongue


If I could write a song

To make you happy

Then by god I’d write them all

If I could be a ladder

To bring you to peace

I’d never let you fall


And I hate this bear

Living inside the cave in my head

That kicks and roars

Saying the very things I don’t mean

But God, I hope

You can see

The End

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