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Her Spirit, Unbridled

For my Mom, Treva... May she sleep in serenity for the rest of eternity.

My mother was a party-er,
free-spirited, and wild.
Then I came along,
her first begotten child.
 
She tried to be responsible,
do what she thought was right.
Eventually her ego was
the one who won the fight.
 
She cautiously continued
on a path of self destruction.
At any given moment,
ready to engage eruption.
 
Time progressed, she carried on
to birth another child;
Didn’t even phase her
she went back to being wild.
 
She was rarely ever present
to keep watch or help us grow.
Yet, if and when I slipped,
she’d always somehow seem to know.
 
She may have acted juvenile,
immature, and cold.
But she also owned a fierceness,
just as strong as she was bold.
 
And a kind of stubborn courage,
right or wrong, she stood her ground.
Once she was determined
she was ready, pound for pound.
 
She’d tell me that she loved me,
“More than all the stars in the sky.”
Who could have known at such a
young age she would die...?
 
A mother’s not a mother;
it’s more than just a name.
It’s something that no woman
could live up to, just the same.
 
If I could see her one more time,
I’d squeeze her so damn tight...
I’d tell her not to worry,
in the end, she’d taught me right.

(2013)

This is for my mom, who only lived to experience 42 years on this wondrous planet. She was as gorgeous as she was stubborn, and she was stubborn as a bull. She'll never grow old or feeble... Only and forever; eternally beautiful...

#QuatrainsRhyming

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