A Tribute To My Mother

This is a tribute to my mother

Stern she may be

But I still love her

Because of my mother, I am me.

When I sprouted from a seed

And bloomed into a bud,

She catered to my every need

And pulled me out of the mud.

As the years went by

I began to branch out

I was growing less shy

And, when it came to voicing her doubts,

My mother never held back.

I just wish I cut her more slack.

Now fruitful, blossoming, flowering

It's clear to see I stole her traits.

Advising, supporting and empowering:

She's still doing this to date.

Mother, thank you for everything you do.

I honestly don't know what I'd do without you.

Spilled Ink

Armed with nothing but my ball point pen,

I pour my heart out onto the paper as if it was spilled ink.

Once white with purity, innocence and bliss then

Tainted by countless black scars that make my spirits sink.

They drown in the sea of unspoken words

That are yet to announce themselves on the parchment before me

But they escape me like fleeting birds.

I cry and crumple the paper as it protests with a crackling plea.

After a few moments, I straighten it out again

But I know it will never be the same.

My soul is exposed and all of my pain.

What was once a fierce fire

of my passion and desire
is now an extinguished flame.

Waves Goodbye

I made some friends.
It seemed like a lifelong bond
That was never going to end.
I was wrong.

Hanging out, hand in hand,
We were safe, solid and strong.
Giggling, writing down the adventures we planned,
It wasn't to last long.

When they were in despair,
I was always there.
But when the darkness washed over me,
Someone better usually came around.
My friends were nowhere to be seen.
They left me to drown.

It was a broken bond I could never mend.
I made some friends.