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Mom Death Poems | Death Poems About Mom

These Mom Death poems are examples of Death poems about Mom. These are the best examples of Mom Death poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |

ECCENTRIC EYES

Oh, her blue eyes are quite unique
Without a word they always speak
Those eccentric eyes, like no other
The precious eyes of my dear mother

A gentle sparkle means she is proud
Fiery eyes means she's screaming loud
And a soft look means.. I love you son
Darting eyes is son what have you done

Them beautiful eyes have followed me
For all of my life.. now close to eternity
She lays in her bed they say, do not go
My eyes answer back I know she knows

I hold her hands and try hard not to cry
She whispers to me.. closes her eyes
What she whispered makes me smile
My eyes will surely shout it after awhile 

Contest: Rose's "Eccentricize My Eyes"
Date: 10-5-14
Poet: LyricMan


Details | I do not know? |

Abortion (Another Life Gone)

There you are being conceived in your mother's womb. 
Before you know it you will be born in this world 
real soon. 

As you develop; you start to move around. You take in 
your first food as your mom gobbles it down. 

Your ears start to develop; behold now you can hear! 
You start to move around as the sounds you hear are 
weird. 

You look around to only darkness. So you yawn and fall 
asleep. Look at those precious toes that are taking 
shape on your little feet! 

You hear your mother talking and you react to her voice. 
You start to kick. You start to coo. It seems to make 
you rejoice. 

I can hear the sound of your heart beat, and at hearing 
it I fall in love. I take a moment to see what is now 
going on in heaven above. 

Yah smiles down upon you as a precious baby is starting 
to take shape. Everything seems good so far, but hold up 
baby...wait! 

A pain hits you hard. You're wondering what's the 
commotion. You don't even know it, but your mom 
is now having an abortion. 

You don't deserve this. You're a precious baby. To be 
born is the Father's will. But you don't even know it, 
because now you are being killed. 

The pain is killing you...unbearable pain, but what can 
you do. It hurts too much to say this is what your mom 
thinks of you. 

Some think they know better, but your life began at 
conception. Why do some think otherwise? Is it because 
they fell victim to the devil's deception? 

Look at you torn to pieces. I'm crying at the sight 
of you. But it's a relief to your mother, she sees a 
different point of view. 

Another child dead. Another life gone. I can't control 
my emotion. A precious gift from above is now the victim 
of another abortion. 


Details | Free verse |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Blank verse |

Hardest Tears to Fall

Tears too much in which you bleed
Heart aches toll, low sub's breathing
For then, in them, is shown in your skin

May it be brushed over
So it may sit to seep in this pale face
For you're in health
But yet sick in your emotions
Too close you can not bare now, today,
tomorrow, or again in yesterday's
For your pain is nearly not bared

I pray for you and your sister when weeping
Hopping that you will not drown in all sorrows
But cry when times are closed

Mother is all, not yet lost, for her heart lives inside yours
Knowing of a passing before it happens isn't so strong
But the second it comes, she goes and all weights toll
Heavy your heart is, you carry it like the ones in that room
All seems silent till a sob is heard

Hear at this event, the dark colors are all in the lights
The cold faces all glow so bright
For this woman has brought life into the minds
that breathed well before her time

To a loss like this, I would not bare
Alone I would feel, to a special youth that I still endore
For she is what's left of me; whom I may speak to, and 
whom would listen

As to you and your family, may you all lay close to her
May you breathe the way she has breathed
May you all see what she has seen
And may you hear all things she has heard

Her passing does not make your separation,
it only draws you closer
For the day of her event, bless her soul's crossing
for she stands in the clouds
Smiling above all your scene's
In hopes that you will all remember that she is still
there even through these means

I pray for you and your family to give potency and healing
To rejoice on the day she rose on cloud nine
And touched God's face
For this moment do hot dwell in the loss
Cry long but not for ever and remember
her years journey that she has completed
She is in thy safest place and thy hearts of whom she loved


Details | Narrative |

Shattered by her past

Her childhood indelible painted upon her brain. She can still see the knife in her stepfather’s hand and her screaming mother pinned to the bed beneath him, and she knew her mom was dead, even before the last breath escaped her body. But for one brief moment their eyes met, and she could not erase the horror it has painted upon her brain. It was a seed that has grown into a tree. It is revenge.


He went home early that day to “butcher” his step daughter; she was only ten. When her mom returned from work, she was hiding under the bed, and blood was flowing down her legs. Her mom entered the room, and saw him lying on the bed; she fetched the kitchen knife and leaped towards him. They fought, and he stabbed her to death.Yet she cannot be convinced that her mom is dead. She still believes that her mom exists in her, and the doctor has mistakenly pronounced her dead.


 Leaving the bed soaked, dripping red, he bolted through the door, and a voice that was not her own screaming above her head. When last she heard of him, he was sentenced to be hanged, but she was in another world. She thought that God would come that day, but he didn’t and her mom has not risen.


                                                ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Free verse |

Dear mum

Dear mum

I’m sorry faith didn’t give us
Much time together
For I long
Every time I sit at a table
For your delicacious
Meals

For every time I see 
A mother and child
I can’t help but wish
It were us

Every time I receive a hug
I wish it was from you

Every time I pick up
A picture of you
I wish you would talk to me

Every time I pick up
Your clothing
I wish I could see you in them

When I close my eyes
I see your face
Smiling at me

When I look in the mirror
I see you staring back at me

When I listen
To the song of the wind
I hear a string of your voice
Lingering

Of course
 I love these things all
And treasure them
But I’ll also like to
Have the others

I’m selfish
And will love to have 
Them all
Everything you is 
Always welcome
I’ll never run out of space
For you.


Details | I do not know? |

THE PRICE OF OIL, PART I

The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice 
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted 
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands, 
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand 
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved 
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams - 
get down! get down! get down! 
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed, 
his eyes closed with new mom 
gently caressing matted, cark curls, 
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers 
grip the plastic ribbing 
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out 
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted, 
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps 
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay 
as she holds him, hurting for him, 
everything that might happen, 
everything that will happen, 
and she drifts off to slumber, 
mother and child peacefully spent 
in soft pretty colors 
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan 
with government plates at the curb 
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway 
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God) 
to regretfully tell her, 
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs 
regretfully cannot hold her 
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son, 
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.


Details | Rhyme |

Nobody Knew

Nobody knows the pain she hides,
No one cares to look inside.
This little girl that’s only nine,
Has to fight to stay alive.

Her mom’s an alcoholic,
And her daddy does drugs.
She gets beaten and bruised,
Instead of kisses and hugs.

Nobody hears the little girl’s cries,
Nobody notices her wet swelled eyes.
When her mommy is drunk and her daddy is high,
So she doesn’t get beaten, she has to hide.

She’s sick of the pain,
That she suffers from every night.
She’s sick of getting punished,
For her mom and dad’s fights.

So, she went downstairs and grabbed a rope,
And hung it way up high.
She stood on a chair and put her head through the noose,
And jumped and hung there to die.

Her mom came home drunk that night,
Her daddy came home high.
To find her hanging by the rope,
To find out she had committed suicide.

Nobody knew the pain she hid,
Nobody cared to look inside.
The little girl that had wet swelled eyes,
Committed suicide and no longer has to fight to stay alive.


Details | Rhyme |

I wish your death was just a dream

I wish that your death turned out to only be a bad dream.
Your demise makes me feel like I'm coming apart at the seams.
I wish that I would wake up and realize that it was only a nightmare.
But you really are gone forever and it proves that my life is unfair.
If I could wake up, I would be so pleased and it would be great.
Your death hurts so bad that at times I can't even think straight.
I've heard other people say how bad their loved ones deaths hurt them.
But a man doesn't know how bad it really is until it happens to him.
The Lord decided to call you home even though I asked him not to.
I wish your death was just a dream because I would still have you.

[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013.]


Details | I do not know? |

Slow

Slow was the logo he had been wearing since he was born.
Born into a world of poverty and scorn. They look at you funny when your mom is 
destroying her fetus and it's not even born yet. 
9 months of pain in a bubble of insanity. Slowly fading. She didn't know how much you 
were going to be. 
So when the day came and she lied down on the table screaming and breathing. Cussing and 
fussing. Wondering why she didn't keep her silly legs closed.
But then you come around and your eyes were enough to tame her. No more stripping to make 
a dollar, no more crack pipes she wanted to be the perfect mother. She raised you right, 
though she made some mistakes she was really trying. 
Your first day of school she held your hand and cried because you were becoming such a 
little man.
She didn't yet know the hardships that were to come. The boat was solid now but the waves 
were sure to crash it.
The little boy strutted to school he wanted to make his mother proud but he didn't yet 
know he was going to be made a fool. 
First day of class and he could barely read. Teacher's crucified him because he didn't 
know his ABC's. 
From then on he was labeled slow. Got left back in the 3rd grade for him their seemed no 
hope. 
He went from being so determined to blaming his mother, the stress so enormous she 
started the pipe again.
The boy couldn't imagine how much he had hurt her. But he knew hurt as well and for now 
he felt he deserved to be selfish. 
Kids teased him every day, stole his lunch money, called him " slow" and a dummy. He had 
no friends and one day he turned to his mother. 
He said mom why is that every day I go to school and they tease me and I come home and I 
tease you. But you’re silent, you don't ever belittle me. Why is that mommy? He stared at 
her with intelligence in his eyes. The mother was silent for a second and then she looked 
into her baby's eyes and said " Because to me you are golden and even though they might 
not see it I surely know it".The boy looked at his mother and said but how can I be 
golden that's not what anyone says they all say that I’m slow. 
The mother looked at her son and reached out for his hand and slapped it. Didn’t I tell 
you never to listen to what other people say it only matters what you think? What do you 
think?  
The boy gazed into his mother's eyes and said " I think I’m really bright, if you can see 
it and I can see it than that's all I need to know. The mother smiled as he left her that 
day the future seemed bright.


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