Bleeding Memories
In a world unknown where time's river flows in a different arc.
My mother is without kin, no birthing marks.
No drugs seduction, no choices dire,
No shadows of regret, no burdens to tire.
At her parents' grave, a moment so deep,
Love's touch lingers, farewells to keep.
I know of the trials her childhood bore,
The struggles she faced, the wounds she wore, But I, too, was a child.
I witness her struggles, devoid of affection,
A child thrust into a world of imperfection.
No bond of love, no shared embrace,
Just the echoes of her past, leaving a trace.
In her wake, a legacy of insecurity,
A mirror reflecting my own impurity.
She sowed seeds of self-loathing deep within. So I say to my mother, a figure from a distant past… In this poem of healing, I hope you find your way home,
May peace embrace you, wherever you may roam.
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