Mother Dear,
She sat as she rocked in her chair,
Not a gift of age,
A gift of lunacy,
Hard life she had,
Always caught by conscience sparks,
Within a memory,
Fragmented windows left shards,
Dug into her heart,
A broken life of memories past,
Where no-one knew and never asked,
What left her there,
Just passed teenage intervention,
Much too vile to mention,
The fatherless child,
Fearless,
He bought up her kids,
Now brings up his own...,
While she sits and she rocks,
Talking to the clocks,
Sadly watching her life slip away,
Before her eyes,
No more to die for,
Even less to cry for she sighs!
Copywrite Livvi Kent 22/08/2013