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February 15, 2012
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  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #116495  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
I Was Not Ready
Loss of a mother
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I was not ready
The night my mother died.
I was not ready.
My child's heart was still child
Though my body had grown to woman.
I was not ready
The night my mother died.
I was not ready.
I had things I meant to tell her,
Things I wanted to say
But had not said.
I wanted to thank her
         For giving me life,
         For the many things she taught me,
         For her guidance through the years,
         For the wonders she showed me,
         The paths she helped me find.
I wanted to thank her for
         Giving me myself.
My child's heart weeps still
While the woman's heart aches.
I was not ready.
I am not ready.
© Copyright 2001 Bandit's Mama (UN: sandybrace at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Bandit's Mama has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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