You, My Mother
Last night, I raised an undue amount of strife,
with you who gave so much, including life.
I tried to apologize, but truly can't,
without words in ink, my remorseful chant.
I once wrote a poem titled 'You, My Father',
which didn't feel worthy of others' bother.
It felt like fact, like truth, easy observation,
like simple acceptance of my creation.
Now it is time for 'You, My Mother',
a relationship like no other.
My brothers', my own life, you gave,
mine at great risk; you are so brave.
As a man in this life, held fast are the doors,
to the feeling of a life inside of yours.
I will never know the pain you felt,
to give me any chance, a hand dealt.
Amidst any strife, withstanding all the rages,
I have been lucky enough to turn the pages.
To learn the lessons of you and yours,
to seek out better, more peaceful shores.
You have been there every step of my way,
and I know will be every single day.
There is no love like a mother's,
no father's, sister's, or brother's.
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