Mother: Rosa

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Black / Poetry

I know of a woman who lost her child;
And with him, she lost her mind.
Her speech is loud and unrefined,
Her soul a space left undefined.
Her hands draw patterns, up in the air,
And trace along some unknown hair-
Hair that once belonged to her child;
He, to whom she cannot confide,
Her fears of loss, and thoughts of grief.
He who lived, but all too brief.
He, who was her young heart’s thief.

I once knew a woman who lost her child;
Her back curled in the maw of a cat,
Her legs stood shaking from the weight-
The weight that was her body;
Her body that was a shell,
The shell that was her child’s,
He, without voice,
Without form,
Without life,
Who paid for a wrong, that he had not done;
But such is life,
A blank from start to end-
Which only the fates of old may mend,
Change, challenge or bring to an end.

I once knew a woman,
I no longer do;
She faded away amidst winter bloom.
Longing and yearning, now brought to an end,
For now, to her child she can finally tend.

The Author

27. Living large. You control how you make another feel, don't take that for granted. Peace, Love, and Positivity.

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