My Mother could feel the cold on her own lost island.
Only silence came alive as the sun rose and fell.
She took a lot of whippings.
I wish I had kissed her or held her hand.
Where were you out to sea searching the sea?
I know being quiet was for your own safety.
Myself and my brothers gave you nothing,
each rode his own path far away from your fear.
But now there is nothing, you are gone.
I spend my years holding back the tears,
having never listened to the breadth of your pain.
You reasoned such a bitter island on that raging sea.
For you now, I will take care of myself and spend
my years self determined and with friends.
For you now, I will never raise my voice or
ever be alone.