Mom’s Empty Chair


The wreck of the woman that lies in the bed
Is sleeping so soundly; she almost seems dead
Her mouth is wide open; her hair all askew
Shows much of the trauma my Mom has been through
Her life now consists of the chair that is home
Old westerns on tv and talks on the phone
The visits to doctors and hospital stays
Run into each other and fill up her days
Mom was a great beauty when she was still young
But time has betrayed her; her good days are gone
She lies there unknowing; the world moves on by
I watch as she sleeps through her final goodbye
I think of a world where my Mom isn’t there
And feel the hard truth of my Mom’s empty chair

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