A Mothers Tornado That Lands In Quicksand
This vicious cycle invades masses,
Deception overwhelms their human eyes,
Little ones grow up before you know it,
A mothers lies,
Become her cries.
This disease of the mind keeps her raveled inside,
This pretense, in bulk, spins her like a tornado,
A decade goes by,
Now she could die,
While perceiving her current devastation.
This last chance is all she’s got,
For the threads have been sniped,
While the tables are now flipped,
Overwhelmingly aware,
As she gasps for CLEAN air,
She kneels by her bedside,
with a crucifix in one hand,
Now her only hope
from this endless
Quicksand.
By: Sabina Nicole
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