Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Mummy's birthday

She looks down from the heavens and watches all my sins. I wonder at the time of trouble does she cover me with her wings. I wonder if she remembers the pain I caused her to bring me forth into this world, as my thoughts so hinge on the fact that I was the expected girl. I wonder if she remembers my first steps as she held my hand. I wonder if I lived up to her expectations of how my life she did plan. She feed me when I couldn't speak and nursed me when I cried. I regret I could have been a better son as I cannot change the past for someone who died.  She gave me life and I saw God take her's in return. Angels belong in heaven to see you, I wait my turn. It's been a few years and I'm muscular and strong from the outside. Yet, I weep these years of sorrow on my pillow from my bedside. A mother is a woman who loves you even though you are inside. She thinks about your name and how special you'd be beside her. You're her cure for any sickness and disease. She smiles when she does see me. I was a child but held her close when she cried. Now that you're gone who's there to hold me tight? She'd ask me where I'd been and who my new girlfriend was. Alas! She knew and yet the truth she did make me spill. She saw me slit my wrists and asked if I was mad. I laughed out loud and said I was sad. I didn't think about and how much pain she felt. I now weep on bended knees and thank her for all my trouble she had dealt trying to raise me. Her love so effervescent and abundant like the river it does flow. I wish you were near me to hold you once more. I wish you could see me now, all grown up and free. But I'd give anything to have back my mummy. Well I wish these poems fly to heaven, as stupid as that sounds. Well it beats the feeling of pain knowing you aren't around. From the ground we were taken and to it shall we return. I might not be in heaven for my good deeds I haven't earned. I have learnt to live without you and I think that is but a lie. My heart aches knowing you are in your grave looking up at the sky, blue and sometimes grey. I miss you so much I put your picture away. So maybe one-day you'd know, I miss you so, and when I have the words to say just like today.  I'd say something more than just mama, happy birthday.

Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks