Last night I heard your voice, mother,
The words you sang to me
When I, a little barefoot boy,
Knelt down against your knee.
And tears gushed from my heart, mother,
And passed beyond its wall,
But though the fountain reached my throat
The drops refused to fall.
'Tis ten years since you died, mother,
Just ten dark years of pain,
And oh, I only wish that I
Could weep just once again.
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Comments1Wow, "December, 1919" by Claude McKay really got to me. Being a youngster, the words "When I, a little barefoot boy, knelt down against your knee" struck hard. It's intense, the pain and longing for a loved one is so raw, even after ten years. It's sad yet beautiful. Hats off to McKay.