How I rue my mistakes


My mom was my only relative in the world
I loved her so and showed I cared
But I was known for my short temper
I wanted people to accept my salt and pepper
Many a time, I snapped and pouted at mom
She smiled gently and always defused the bomb.

I vented my anger on friends and all
My insecurity often filled with with gall.
My father had left us when I was three
This often sent me up the tree.
I raved and ranted to avenge my loss
But mom never paid attention to my dross.

My mom left me alone last month on a Sunday
Probably to join her Jesus on the Sabbath day.
That day I crumbled, I cried my heart out
I missed mom, I rued calling her a lout
I felt her all calling me, pacifying me
But her physical presence, was not to be.

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