A Mother
A Mother ???
Nothing more than a name, a biological mother.
You would not find, you could not be the other.
You have, with hostility, with anger, left this plane.
Seeming to have lived your life hanging on to the pain.
You chose to throw, all those who loved you, away.
Using the hostile, angry games you chose to play,
against the only son you acknowledge, you cared for.
The only Grandchild who cared, you kicked out the door.
One is forced to question ???, why all these wasted years
trying to kill the love, loved one’s gave, creating rivers of tears.
Mae, the ghosts you have harbored, give them release.
Mae, this, your last journey, become one of peace
B. J. “ A ” 2
March 14th 2017
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2017
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