BS (17/10/89 / Liverpool, England)

Mother.

</></> Today I spell rehabilitation: M-U-M,

They’re three little letters, but I love them.

My mother’s been missing for over six weeks,

But today I cry on the phone, when she first speaks.

You see my mum’s an alcoholic, she’s tortured herself too long,

But today, she rang to tell me, she’s discovered what’s wrong.

She now has some tablets, that she takes every day,

And every time she does, I get the urge to say;

Mother I’m proud of you, for changing your ways.

And I hope you live on, for more of our happy days.

I love you mum.

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Comments (1)

Good poem, Benjamin. Lover her whenever, wherever, as much as you can.