Mommy Dearest
I don't kiss my mother, anymore.
I don't say thank you to her.
I don't hug her goodbye when I fly out the door.
When I am in a rage, on a rampage, I don't stop to think about the words I say.
The flashes within the storm, look between them and you'll see the stillness.
One tender moment I wish to hold forever, mama, I'm sorry:
I didn't kiss you when you were sick, mama, I'm sorry.
I didn't hug you when you said goodbye, mama I'm sorry.
I didn't say "I love you" sooner.
I'm sorry mama, I'm sorry.
Mama, I cried when you died and I'm sorry, mama, that I didn't show my love to you better. Stronger. Sooner.
I can't kiss my mother, anymore.
YOU ARE READING
The Aggravated Mind
PoetryEmbracing a new pattern or rhythm of life. Taking on new ways of thinking and washing away the old. A sweet love of verse and song. My heart will go on. *Author's note* Note will be random insight to the poems of this book.
