MOTHER OF THE GONE

Mother of the gone
Who still feels the pain of the born
As sadness toots its horn
With no hope of living till dawn
There sure is a morn
So live through your torn

II
I know you picture earth’s heat
As it, like a disgusting glutton, your precious eats
I know you’re feeling self-blame’s beat
As it calls your living a shameful cheat
I know your strength depletes
…nothing seems complete
…and every comfort seems like a goat’s bleat
As the warrior in you feels the loss of defeat
Channel the pain, disdain acting bane
…to drive you insane
Into your inner strength and stand on hope’s feet

III
Because you must live for the departed
…to inspire your future shadows so they’ll be positively impacted
Oh you must tread on those thorns of hurts
To shame haunting suicidal bets
You must brave through the hunger
…graduate to gluttony and leave behind thoughts of the loving manger now a remembering danger
You must reach the podium of testimony as a self revivor
…to gain the title of a great survivor
You must tune you to the highest channel of love even in self hatred
For you are more than the hatred
…wanting your heart-land to plant a fail
Live for your born in gone to your pride’s tail
…it always gets better with time
So above all things, live as the pains chime
Until the fog of despair clears for your life to, with the sun, rhyme
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © January 9, 2021