Son
Red haired boy looking like a prince, you slipped through my fingers. I can not revisit the past and retain my mind, torture undiluted. There is no pain comparable. There is no insanity greater than that in the mind of a hopeless mother. Foot on my head. Rage. And I know my suffering leached into your veins causing you pain unintended. I am sorry forever my son. And yet here you are, such a fine boy. I used to kiss your cheeks red, you were mine, you were mine, you were mine, as close to me as my own skin. Will there be a day I can let it go, will there be a memory that does not bring with it a bitter sting. Acid to my soul, There are no words. And yet here you are, such a bright and talented young man. My pride has no bounds and neither do you. You are a survivor just what I never wanted you to be. Careless, joyful, secure, loved, that was to be your lot, wished to you by your mother and God. And now here you are. Victorious, My son, Beautiful.
(2013)
