A Place Call Sanity
Maybe it was the bars that captivated reason
to see beyond sweet pleasantries.
Where nothing seem apparent to ever satisfy sanity,
with conclusive understanding,
to bear living in an insane world.
Yet hope hangs on
to a worn out tread of mothers yarn,
as a dysfunctional fill in the blanks-
that satisfies my curiosity
and need to question.
Now I realise
She is just as uncertain of tomorrow as I been
and neither of us hold factual proof of our beliefs.
Though! 'Credit needs to be granted for effort'
So yes mother I love you.
Yet like all things born to die,
one day we shall part each other's company
and as uncertain as life has been-
so shall death become.
For now I can still tell you-
I understand your previous actions
and hold no regrets against them,
see no wrongs
and yes Mother
I love you.
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