Regret


What should I have known--
my mother,
crashing down like a missle--
head first.

Why couldn't I hold her hand--
never let her go,
not see her jump down--
down into the deep.

That awful day--
huge rubble showers,
my mighty mother trapped--
into the crash of two towers.

Me, I was at home--
fixing the Jenga® piece,
but when it all falls--
she had.....deceased.

For now that I know
the occurence was
intentional
why am I not mad-but
rather mad at.....
Myself?

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