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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1016557
A face of Mother that I saw as a child after she had a nervous breakdown.
She sits so fair
upon her chair
her eyes fixed in a stare.

I whisper low ... Mother
her hair falls forward to smother.

I whisper again ... Mother,
her face looks like another.

She sits so fair
still in her stare
so far gone, unaware
she is one we call Mother.
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