You see we saw how it
felt,
In a dream like a vision;
Where we felt all the guilt,
It wasn’t like said,
There stood our mother in fear and
dread,
Watching her son as he bled to death.
They stabbed us
quite clean,
Which really was mean,
As they tortured and
laughed;
Blood and water came out like a bath.
Our mother
cried,
As she watched her son die.
Knowing inside we would be
OK,
Knowing from where we came,
So knew it would be the
same.
Yet now our mother we must watch,
As she watches the
final clock,
Of her son she loved and bore;
Who was worth so
much more.
Thursday, July 7, 2022
The Mother's pain
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