Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Mother,

I meant to finish college and
go get my Master’s degree,
to become and engineer
and built great things in our cities.

I meant to show you my new house
with a suite above the garage,
so you could leave that damn ghetto
and have a safe placed to lodge.

I meant to tell you of my Marie,
how she’s all wrapped around my heart,
let her tell you how excited
she is for the family we’ll start.

I meant to show you your grandkids,
two boys and a little girl,
so you could spoil them rotten,
show them off to all the world.

I meant to thank you in a speech
when I got that big award,
then be ushered off the big stage
before the audience got bored.

I meant to help you with the bills
when your health began to fail,
to rant and rave at the doctors
if you continued to ail.

I meant to make the Holidays
a joyous time for family,
to invite them all down here
and throw a truly righteous feast.

I meant to do so many things,
to love, strive, achieve and give,
but mostly mom, to be honest,
I think I most wanted to live.

But in an inner-city clinic
they stuck a vacuum in my head,
barely made it half-way out,
you meant for me to be dead.

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