They're
gone.
Not dead,
just
Not
here.
Not here
To be fed, or to nourish me with a smile.
Not here
For me to wipe away their tears, or notice mine as they stream involuntarily
down
uncertain wobbling cheeks.
Of course I know it's healthy,
Am humbled by their nerve, striking out.
Not needing
To return daily to the refuge of home.
Not needing
To be fed, to be welcomed.
Yet the devastation hits me
In waves.
A seismic pain rising up to
Knock me down
In my new not-needed-ness.
A different Mum now.
-
Author:
smilersam (
Offline) - Published: December 1st, 2015 15:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Hi! This poem is the reason I have sought out and joined My Poetic Side. My third and youngest son has recently left home … and I celebrate that all 3 sons are moving forward with their lives. But after 24 years of being needed as Mum on a daily basis I have been grief-stricken in a way I could never have anticipated …. and that I find difficult to explain to friends and family. I feel so blessed in so many ways and actually feel very guilty for feeling so lost. But I am …. and writing this has helped. I am hoping that sharing it will help too. I am not a poet. Please excuse my naivety …. but my offering is sincere … and genuinely me. Thank you for reading.
- Category: Family
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Yorke
Offline)
Comments1
Your words and your feelings are more poetic than you give yourself credit for, you have expressed yourself beautifully, I feel every word.
Thank you so much Gene.
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