My Mother’s Grief

 

by Richard J, Hobbs

 

 

Six years have since ensued,

And yet the right words

Persist to elude.

A grim day, hard to fit the mood..

And if I wasn’t slim paid,

Her name I’d get tattooed.

I know it’s hard not to cry,

Or keep emotions subdued

I swear I dab my eye,

Whenever I think of her food.

But I know the dead can view;

The dead can see,

That through you

Is lived their legacy.

Together again you’ll be..

Inevitably.

 

 

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