Tears of a Mother
What does it take?
What would it take?
What did it take?
My son, my boy, my child
My tears are rivers of loss
My heart broken shattered lost and bound in a darkness so deep recovery will evade me till my last breath
I can hardly breath my lungs are full of death, my heart is slowing stopping, pulsing to nothing
Are you my baby, my second son that was given me from the loins of your father?
Is it you, you my boy my darling child, my new born boy?
Are you the child that would run and play and love and cuddle up close into my bosom before sleep, before you closed your eyes exciting about the next day and more new discovery?
Are you my young son so full of hope, so loving and loved, so hopeful, so strong about life and what life was sharing with you?
What did it take, how did it happen?
My baby, my child, my son you are lost to a generation of those that have swallowed the lie that it is better to die a martyr than to live a life of good
The lie that destruction is an outcome only God would approve
The lie that the carnage and destruction of another human is an action that almighty would bless you for
My son, my son, my son
Lost generation, generation dissolve, generation death
What did it take my son to create your monsters?
Who spoke to you?
Who planted the seeds?
Who watered the seeds?
Who told you and you listened?
Who approved you and you approved them?
The blood of your forefathers, the blood of your fathers, the blood of your history would rise and cry at these destructions of yours.
It was a lie and I am broken, rent in two, split apart never to be repaired
My own life stopped never to restart the day you did what you did
A mind fertile and ready to be occupied by the thoughts of men
Men that don’t care for you
Men that don’t care for others
Men no longer to be called men
Death and the end of all things.
I want you back, its all too late
I want you home, its all too late
I want my child, its all too late
I sit here alone looking into my thoughts, staring into a mirror asking what did I do wrong?
My heart grows weaker as each second passes
I am waiting for my own end, the end of my life has taken place I shall wait the finality
My son my son my son
If I could turn back the clock and carry you home I certainly would
Pain, pain, pain so much pain.
I am a broken woman, a human that has lost her humanity, the mother that lost her son to them
Them that know nothing
Them that take al things
Them that took my son
Tears, tears, tears
I am broekn
I am lost
I am gone
I want my baby
I want my child
I want my son
I shall cry tears until my final moment
NOTE: Tears of a mother – post Boston bomb thoughts
Alan Forrest Smith