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Tears of my mother
When my mother moaned
As she witnessed her daughter depart this life
I was touched by the glitter in her tears
Tears of emancipated love,
The sort ordinary in a woman
That is not faked or imperfect;
But my father admonished me
That her tears were psychologically adulterated,
That her tears were meant to delude me-
After all fatality of a son is more devastating.
I did not accept as true what father told me
For I knew the lie in male psychology
So I ran from him without looking back
And followed mother to her bedroom
And I wiped away the tears from her face:
She was my mother
And I was her son
I could not let her cry alone.
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