So here I wait at the end of the phone
Sat in my house, all on my own.
Checking my emails everyday
Something exciting might come my way.
Just last year I was twelve years old
Sat at my desk good as gold, I always did as I was told.
Only last month I was getting wed
Buying a house, a car and a bed.
Yesterday saw the birth of my girls
Beautiful eyes, red lustrous curls.
Today you shall find me being a mother
A task more important than any other.
I’ve travelled along the path of my life
Been a good mother, friend and wife.
I haven’t forgotten the dearly departed
I write this poem now, quite broken hearted.
But I do understand that life must go on
For my two precious girls, I know I’ll be strong.
For now though, I wait I ponder and wonder
Does the sun always take the place of the thunder?.
Do bad days always give way to good ?
Did I really do as much as I could?.
Questions to which I receive no reply
Most pressing of which is , why did she die?.
I keep all my thoughts locked safely away
No one can read them, not then not today.
Four years ago, my dear mother died
That terrible day, god how I cried.
I held her hand as she took her last breath
As her tired body succumbed to death.
I screamed at the doctor, please bring her back.
I can’t, he replied, it doesn’t work like that!.
Back at home, later that night
I shouted at god, I wanted a fight.
Why did you take her?, I pleaded in vain
Why have you burdened me with so much pain?.
God never answered, not once did he speak
I prayed at his altar, until I felt weak.
I lit all the candles, I made a donation
I needed some closure, some peace, some salvation .
Now four years on from that fateful day
The void that she left has not gone away.
Please answer me god, I’m tired of waiting
Day after day, sat contemplating.
Why did you take my mother from me?.
When you let all the demons roam the earth free.
She believed in you god, her faith never waivered.
I too did believe, I thought you would save her.
Don’t you remember, we brought her to Lourdes.
To worship en masse, and pray with the hoardes.
Don’t you recall her praying in church.
Knelt in the pews, until her knees hurt.
Don’t you remember the rows with my dad?.
When he mocked her religion, and made her feel sad.
Don’t you remember her pain and her tears?.
The suffering she bore, for all of those years.
Don’t you remember how lovely she was?.
How kind and how giving, an immeasurable loss.
I suppose you’re too busy, to answer us all
Us weepers and wailers who continue to call.
Should I let go of the past and move on?.
It sounds very simple to do, but so wrong.
Can I just leave her to dwell in the past?.
To never return, how long can that last?.
Oh dear lord above, if you’re listening now,
I want to forgive you, I just don’t know how!.