Saint Mum

'The patience of a Saint' I'd hear her say, I think it left her lips thousands of times, four sons, there may have never been a day where tempers almost frayed due to our crimes. Crumbs of toast smeared in the butter tub, doors slamming late at night when back from town, plates left unwashed from meals after the pub, and every day, the loo seat not put down. New clothes with stains and rips from playing out, a bloodied nose, and sometimes broken bones from stupid stunts she'd warned us all about, patiently waiting for us, sat alone. I'd thank her for her patience through the years but time has long since passed since she's been here.