Woman in the middle of the diner, Mother in the middle of the aisle

A new bloom of flowers start to grow for you & me, on a plain outside

Admitted on the 14th 'cause of a public display of emotion

A notion of heartache & agony pushing, a bouquet of brusque when they say you need not worry so much

"But how can't I worry my Son's only five I'm his Mother & I won't be a part of his life, I won't be there to see him grow or give him advice or watch him trade me off for a wife, I won't be there when he gives life; I don't want to say goodbye"

What makes you happy, what makes you happy in your head? Is it all the souls you gather around you? When you're sitting in the Hospice

Endlessly tired as they say, in the waiting room whispering

We'll keep you in our prayers, "we'll keep you in our prayers" is how the conversation ends

If flowers could kill the open arms of Death my weathered hands & I, would grow a field of them but it's Friday afternoon

Your Son will finish school & he'll be here to visit you, but before they're about to wheel you to your routine Friday afternoon

The nurse approaches with a cloud above his head & a paper grave in his hand, with an expiration date for you

"I'm bored of being scared to die, you'll stay forever in the moonlight

So let's be nothing, I heard it lasts forever

That one memory, you'll refuse to remember"

To end the journey was something no Child nor Human should see

An pleasant wave of gloom & sorrow partnered with years & years of misery

Who will break the silence on his Friday routine & fill his heart with what he needs?

From the day until his Death 65 maybe 70 he'll only have one thing

An address, grass, etched stone & a cemetery

He'll confide to it, yet still holding solitude so bleak

He came to this place every Friday, just after 3:00pm to Forever set in stone his Friday routine

A Sister, a Daughter but mainly a Mother

Resting In Peace