Mama
In my youth I have known none but you,
molded I was of your words,
in your hind I was shielded,
but now Mama you are gone,
to whom shall I know in similitude?
With this hand I passed unto you,
the dust,
this it is, the dust
dust to dust,
but the dust I passed,
will be passed unto me too.
Copyright © Abimbola Mosobalaje Davis | Year Posted 2017
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