*****
This is the last Mother’s Day
I get to send flowers
I get to buy lunch
I get to bring chocolate
She is in bed
She is in pain
She is tired of waiting
And I’m not a tousled red-headed poet
I want the gentle good night
I’m too tired to rage against the light
I want to blow out the candle
I want the pain to stop
Until I remember
This will be the last Mother’s Day
I have a mother
Then I join hands with my poet friend
Fight, fight, fight
Please mom
Fight, fight, fight
I’m selfish
I’m sinful
I want my mom
No matter the cost
No wonder I was never the favorite