Surrounded by your towering expectations for me.
I shiver, knowing I’ll never amount.
My lips fold in responds to your soul-stirring
melodies, yet I quiver when I long to hear your voice.
When I needed you most, there you are,
planted like a tree, here to keep me,
to carry me even. When must I learn
to bear the heavy burden of life?
As if it isn’t you who keeps me alive.
You gave me hope and the ego to thrive.
You have given me hope a plenty, joy and piety.
Mother, you’re just everything I need to
survive. You’re a magnetic force that pushes
me to the limits I tend to avoid. Mother, you’re
an outstretched hand when I am drowning in
the ocean of life. Mother, you’re too, the
saving grace that gaps the aching of each
gruesome void.
When living becomes the prologue agony
that it’s known to be, then I thrust my
burden and troubles upon the shoulder of thee.
When life is, in a wink, turned into a tiring
endeavor, or too much of a chore, I then let go,
trusting you, once more. To be my refuge and
my comfort, and beloved support.
When I’m disturbed by deeds of sorrow, filled
with remorse, or wish no more to see tomorrow,
then you become my hope and your courage is
mine to borrow.
You, oh dear mother, are my saving angel from
each horror. ~Mother, you’re my guiding hand
through each toil and my escort through every
open door.
You’ve distilled my spirit, and have filtered my
tears with your bosom. You’ve pruned my
branches, mend my patches, and have painted me
glory with your oozing strength. You’ve revive me
once more, with a gleaming stare, and with the
savoring rekindle of your words, be jubilant my heart.
MisterPoet
Mr. Poet 