I was not ready
The night my mother died.
I was not ready.
My child's heart was still child
Though my body had grown to woman.
I was not ready
The night my mother died.
I was not ready.
I had things I meant to tell her,
Things I wanted to say
But had not said.
I wanted to thank her
For giving me life,
For the many things she taught me,
For her guidance through the years,
For the wonders she showed me,
The paths she helped me find.
I wanted to thank her for
Giving me myself.
My child's heart weeps still
While the woman's heart aches.
I was not ready.
I am not ready.
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