To stand beside my grieving Mother.
Is a storm of rage and pain.
Coupled with, something other.
That wants, to isolate.
Removes her heart, from her sleeve.
Fury in, her loss, unleashed.
Transfers, a truth, that screams.
My grieving Mother, can't be reached.
But this, is of no consequence.
No reason, for alarm.
Because in me, her strength, transcends.
And we stand, arm and arm.
ARM
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 5:12 AM UTC
To stand beside my grieving Mother.
Is a storm of rage and pain.
Coupled with, something other.
That wants, to isolate.
Removes her heart, from her sleeve.
Fury in, her loss, unleashed.
Transfers, a truth, that screams.
My grieving Mother, can't be reached.
But this, is of no consequence.
No reason, for alarm.
Because in me, her strength, transcends.
And we stand, arm and arm.
ARM