I look at my mother, and tears well.
She is a warrior emerged from battle,
And it sometimes saddens me that-
She still wears her armour when the war is long over.
I’ve watched half of her battles,
Seen her on the frontline-
Taking in the arrows for those behind.
I’ve watched her detach them,
Not even a moan kissing the air.
I know of battles I never saw,
Beats me how much steel formed her soul.
Sometimes I watch her,
Wonder how many demons she has had to fight,
How much strength she has had to ignite.
I see the arrowheads trapped in her heart.
She now has seven-foot tall walls around it.
Sometimes, rarely, you see the wound.
Raw, red and sometimes with pus,
It sits central and deep.
Sometimes I stare at her smile,
wonder how many were real,
and how many were painted so she’d not crumble.
And I want to ask,
‘Mama, whatever d’you do to not bumble?’
Sometimes I stare at her and want to ask-
When you cry, and no one wipes your tears,
Do you need someone drawing away your fears?
When it hurts and the past demands you remember,
Will you allow a moment of weakness and let me be your pillar?
See, our past is full of blots, but you and I,
we pledge amnesia.
Forever forward, backwards ne’er.
But Ma, the wounds are still fresh under these Band-Aids.
Ma, the pain still sings the songs of ago and-
maybe,
just maybe;
You can at least once uncase the armour,
Address the ruins we left.
In her eyes are the wars my dearest ma lost,
The scars that never quite mended,
And when you ask she just smiles.
But in her Mona Lisa smile I will her to speak.
Of dreams trodden,
And desires weighed down under rivers.
I look at my mother and think-
‘Ma, someday, I’ll make you a queen,
Clothe you in purple and royal blue.
I’ll point the world to the crown atop your head ma.
I will fight your battles for you ma.
For once you will have a full night’s sleep ma,
And the monsters,
The monsters will be long gone.’
So I pray,
That when I grow up,
I will have courage enough to ask,
And fortitude enough to be your tower.
Love, me.
The war is over ma

Beautiful as always. If my mum was on WordPress I’d tag her… haha. Remember us when you’re out there touring and selling your anthologies coz you’re headed there very soon.
LikeLiked by 1 person
👀unless you’re afraid, you could send the link to the family group or on her Facebook 💀😂😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Btw… let me do that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
💀lucky you you have courage😂
LikeLike
Remember you when I’ll want you in my tour bus?? Aah Eli… If I shine, I’m placing you in the orbit of that sun🥺😂. But I have a feeling you’ll also be enjoying the rays of that sun yourself
LikeLiked by 1 person
Stop! Hahaha… if I was lightskinned I’d be red. Cheers to tour buses and enjoying sunrays.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂😂😂😂aaah too bad. That tomato red would have been welcome.
🥂One day
LikeLike
Wow wow wow 👏😍👌😳, I almost thought it’s my mum in the description, honestly I don’t have half her strength
This is a masterpiece and real to the core
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you very much.
It still resonates till today.
😂I don’t have the strength to tag her so she can see this though
LikeLike