Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2020
Mother, I feel your pain
Your grief
It's coursing through my veins
As if I must take it away;
It has become my quest
Until this body turns to dust.

Oh, Mother, I am living sores of yours,
Feeling it all
Deep in my core.
Never thought of having a choice
Until I've discovered the voice
Of my own.

Mother, your sadness soaks through my bones
The very marrow of those
Yet through time that flowed
Between then and now
I realised I am owed
To pave the roads
Of my own.
Goda Ramonaityte
Written by
Goda Ramonaityte  28
(28)   
566
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems