He Will Be Missed. Poem by Rasyidah Wafa

A mother with her daughters,
Stood there wearing black wrinkled dresses,
In a corner of the room feeling hopeless
Whereby it used to be a home where they would be caress.

The children feel calm by the mother's scent,
It assures the presence of her with them
After all they are drowning in a sea of grief,
Loss of hope, incomplete.

The curtains flapping, remain rectangular.
Just like those days when there's no tears,
The sky so black, it cries a river,
To the loss of someone they most dear.

Her brown eyes shows her loneliness,
Soft prayers she mutters,
Gaining strength for her heavy shoulders
Of the future worries and fears.

The daughters smell the sweetness of flower's scent,
Whenever they are in the embrace of their mother,
For the father is in a faraway land
Leaving the family with only tears and shudders.