The Bond ( Poetically Incline )

 

I tried not to see

What unto me was shown,

Dear god at that age

I wish I was grown

 

 

I wish what I saw

I didn’t have to see,

And just maybe , this man ,

I wouldn’t grow up to be

 

 

The dessert lips of my heart

Craved for her ever nourishing hug,

And my boiling hatred

Was over powered by love

 

 

Mom am sorry,

At this age am still not grown

My  body is living with you

But my mind is still not home

 

 

Her scars and her bruises

Are paintings from the past

And a hug from her son

Made her free at last.

 


Comments:
 
Switchblade   Switchblade wrote
on 9/2/2009 6:45:39 PM
The bond between a mother and her child could not be torn asunder. Come hell or high waters, it will always be there. Come accord or discord it will always be unbowed. Nice thought Kartel.

Trenchtownrock   Trenchtownrock wrote
on 8/28/2009 7:21:53 AM
Loving somoen can make a world of difference in their lives especially when they have walked the gates of hell..her scars and her bruises are apintings from the past...excellent imagery..this is very good.

frederic   frederic wrote
on 5/10/2009 1:31:10 PM
A lot of us agree that the power of love is helpful in troubling circumstances. I think it's good that you see love as your mainstay.

Kartel
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A Word from the Writer
this was written from actual events that take place with my mom which are still affecting me today, memories of those events are like tatoo in my mind
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