Happy Birthday, Mom - Part XIV
The date of your death was a day I'll always hate.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned 78.
When you became ill, you went under the knife.
A surgeon amputated your leg to try to save your life.
He also operated on your stomach and it was enough to cause fear.
You couldn't be saved and it's so sad because you're no longer here.
When you died, it was upsetting because your demise was so unfair.
Happy Birthday, Mom, you're in Heaven and I'm glad you're up there.
[Dedicated to Agnes Greene-Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013]
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
