Dear Mom

I'm trying to pick up the pieces

That you left with me

When you stepped away from time.


I'm trying to not repress

The emotions that set us free,

But this perpetual emptiness robs me blind.


They say that most sad poetry

Loses deepest meaning

When it starts to rhyme.


Even artists have bigotry;

You find them leaning

On words that are less than kind.


But these words have meaning to me;

I have to get them off of my chest.

You once said that my writing makes me unique…


I wish I could tell you about the people I'll meet.

I wish I could show you that I can be the best.

I wish you could still hold me.


I wish that wishing worked this way;

That I'd get my wish on the first try.

Maybe then… Things wouldn't be so very bleak…


At the end of the day, my wishes fade

Into my pillow with the tears I cry.

Mom, I wish you could see what I see.