It’s more than a project
My mother’s smile, numb to keep from splinter
Years of regret, I guess not what’s best
Still I know not who did what
A childish attachment
Ease wills her mind
For how long will I project?
Mother
To steal is akin to death
From you to my son
My daughter from her own
My nephew from his niece
Their unborn without soul
The bird chirps
Now I hear its wounds
Understand its voice
Dance to its trust
Mother loves you
Father loves you
Son looks up
The sunset in our daughter’s I
Leave a Reply