In Verse

46. I GOT MY HUMOR FROM MY MOTHER.

TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS SENSITIVE THEMES, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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My mother often told me humorous tales of tragic funerals.
So whenever we were at one,
we would chuckle at the red noses of the helpless bereavers.

I would often laugh at the dead body that laid lifeless inside the coffin,
so instead of sharing grief with the family of the lost ones;
I shared my mother's humor.

She often narrated me stories of my father's orphaned life.
Exasperated of her wit,
he exterted violence on her and she would laugh at the scars that he gave her.
Rather than medicating her wounds,
I made jokes of the blotches that she carried on her body,
and spent the night laughing at her miseries.

My mother often told me tales of her dead parents.
She used to tell me, how her pa often skipped his food to feed her,
and how her mom never bought new clothes so she could dress her children in good.

We would call them imbecile in our heads, and out aloud,
laugh at their idiocracy.

I never met my grandparents,
so instead of giving credits to them for being what a parent should be,
I credited my mother for her witty humor.

My mother often laughed at other people's disabilities and surprisingly she always made out of it unscathed.
Only once she couldn't,
where death laughed at her infront of me.

I wanted to lend her a helping hand,
but I stood there motionless,
watching her die.
Once in my life I wanted her to laugh at my humor,
and what was better than a story of someone who was beaten to death?

I captured her trembling breaths in my head,
to recite it to her later,
but she never came back to listen to me ever again.

I was grieving and my eyes were dripping in red
but I got my humor from my mother,
so at her funeral, I laughed instead.

-Azmii•