Untitled (Wrote while visiting my sick mother)

by Deanna

You see how hard she breaths,
her chest expanding,
panting for extra air..
Her lungs are sore and just about worn..
This lady who has such a lonely face,
So calm, so pale, so exhausted..
Yet shes still beautiful..
The crop of the bed looks so unconfy..
But thats how she prefers to sleep..
Laying back cuts off her better chance to breath..
Behind all the Iv's, tubs, and meds..
Shes the women who has gave birth to me..
The lady who i grow up calling mommy..
My mother, my protector, my strength in every given day..
Her strength maybe weakening, but..
Her faith is still alive..
Its still there..
Today i see her deepest within..
Her hope for betterness or even a tiny blessing..


Submission date : 2011-11-06

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