MOTHER

Sixteen years ago, you were
In an operation theater
Willing to bear the pain to
Bring out a new one into this world.

A small boy with a toothless grin
Would intoxicate you like a glass of gin.
He would give you joy; you’d think,
“I wish I could understand you, my little boy.”

But don’t you see, mother?
You always understand me.
You’re ne’er to busy with another;
In fact for me, you’re always free.

‘Tis I mother, who never understood
‘Tis I, who was never always good.
And yet mother, I blamed you;
You took it all, false or true.

And through it all you loved me,
Whether or not, mother, I loved you.
You set my spirit out free
A skill I learned, nay, you taught me.

Through this simple verse, mother
I express my love for you:
You must know that this at least, is true.