Journal::>
CRY OF A MOURNFUL MOTHER
To Kris, my baby,
From the bowels of my soul I cry
Wounds that will never heal torment me day and night
Pictures of you on the dresser cause me so much agony
Knowing full well that you never again will be my little baby
The hurtful words ring in my memory
Haunting me
Haunting me
Like a torrential storm the words rain down
With each word, a piece of me dies
And the uncaring glares you shoot my way
They tell me of the hate
The spite
You feel for me, the mother who bore you
And I cry
From the bowels of my soul.
ODE TO MY BABY
Baby Kristopher
Formerly so tender; now
You await my death
