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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1912002
A brief tale about some hardships with my mother...
Ever so slowly you fade away.
Bit by bit, some more each day.
There is no pain, you are receding.
And down inside, your heart is bleeding.
Numb and cold
You are so bold.
      …
Mummy this isn't who you are.
The woman you once were has traveled afar.
I miss you, mum. And this is true.
But there is nothing I can do.
Okay, now for a small pinprick.
Mummy you will feel a bit sick.
But you already are.
And all I've left are scars.
Oh god, how I wish I could help!
Yet all I do is make you melt.
Slipping through my fingers, and into the lords.
Daily you strum my weak heart’s cords.
And as I pour my soul out to you, it will make little difference.
Because you are a brick wall, soft to the touch.
© Copyright 2013 Carolynn Jane (brockettrocket at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1912002-Mummy-Dearest