When I last saw your son, his speech was slurred.
I waved my hand in front of his face but his eyes wouldn’t follow
He was coughing so hard and his breathing was shallow
The boy had finally gone mad; unstable as a wheelbarrow.
There was nothing we could tell you to calm you down.
His father wanted nothing to do with this junkie clown
Saying that his antics were inherited from your side of the crown
There was no way he sired the newest madman in town.
When I last saw your son, I didn’t want you to know.
Because out in search of him you would go
And find him passed out from an overdose of blow
In a pool of his own urine, a finale to the pathetic show.
He was five years old just the other day-
Making tiny animals with a roll of clay
Holding onto each word mummy would say
Coming home dirty from a round of play
Clapping his tiny hands together when it was time to pray
You called him your little man, your sunshine ray
But now here you are, staring at him.
He’s trembling and foaming at the mouth
All of his body functions were going south
You want to hold him even if he smells like urine
You want to slap out of him the stain of heroine
The tears stream down your face as his eyes open slightly,
He tries to speak but nothing comes out, just a tiny sigh.
A mother isn’t a woman who has a child,
Because that definition is quite mild.
Someone who loves you beyond your stupidity,
With the belief to reason you beyond your timidity,
Capable of both a slap and pity-
And carries her pain and yours with dignity.
She will send you every time you want to leave the house,
And threaten you expressly when your breasts exceed your blouse.
She will look at you when there’s a pile at the sink,
And constantly inspect your body for any sign of ink.
She doesn’t benefit without thinking of others
Lots of love to all the mothers.
The link to the image may be found here.