JUST WORDS.
Mama, Mama, write me,
write me
about how you wanted me,
Mama, Mama, five small words–
that I was your best idea.
Mama, Mama, I waited,
waited,
forever to hear some words
to heal the mama hole
in me,
a void in this little girl.
When you died, you wrote me,
wrote me
words of rebuke and pain,
sent in the mail by a
lawyer man,
more reproach and shame.
Mama, Mama, look down,
look down,
I’m doing the best I can
to be my own mama and
love myself
and fill the space
you left.
jle
Beautiful. I love the rhythm of this.
Thank you Sarah!
Heart wrenching…
—but in a good way, right? Thank you.
Well, if it was me, I would say this was and is painful to me…So how do I get rid of it. The good part is you have choices on what you want to do with it and there are so many options.
If the poem portrayed the emotion in a way you could feel it then I feel the poem succeeded. All my past and present experiences form the person in process that I am, the real and healing me.
It totally succeeded! Thanks for sharing.