Mother
On her deathbed, her last gasp, I love you,
Holding my mothers hand, I cannot reply,
I could never reply,
We never said those words, we never touched,
So many of us, carry a burden,
I carry this burden,
From a mother to a son, why was I not the one?
From a son to his mother, why was I not the one?
(Stoic)
Copyright © Stephen Allen | Year Posted 2012
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