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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1170615
A poem of love and worry for my daughter.
Looking at Tomorrow

My time is growing shorter; I feel the chilling wind
between this world, the next, the one with no end.
I have had some sorrows, some pain and some woe
but now my life is over; it is time to go.

My deepest sorrow, my greatest fear
when contemplating my death so near
Is leaving her, my only child,
alone down here in this world so wild.

It's not that she has none to care
shes a wonderful mother, always there
but, as most of us know, there is none, no other
who loves us as much or as dearly as mother.

Who will she call when SHE needs to know
to listen or just understand what's so?
who will reach out to hug and touch, to hug
for no other reason than the motherly tug?

This bothers me much, and I pray to God maybe
you'll pay more attention to MY little baby.
Grown woman, yes, no need to smother
but always, always, we long for mother.

Not that I was so special; I wish I had been
I made mistakes and cried each time when
I failed her or angered or didn't have enough
of whatever she needed when the going was tough.

Still, I feel the bond grow thicker like mud,
shoulder to shoulder with child of my blood.
I can't help but worry how lost will we be
When the physical link has broken free.

When loving your own, I hope this is clear,
that you'll remember MY baby when I'm no longer here.
She's a lovely grown woman, not like any other.
Take it from me, her loving mother.





© Copyright 2006 Iva Lilly Durham (crankee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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