Compassionate Mother Theresa,
Too good to be true?
This dream to last I pray,
Opened mine eyes,
And all seemed surreal –
Face One
Why Mum...why?
Did you have to leave,
Without that last goodnight,
And I do miss,
That warm embrace, voice of home,
Hydra tentacles – choking,
Dark clouds gather – black ravens hover,
This nightmare to end I pray,
Opened mine eyes,
Wry smile of dark angel-
Face Two
Called me ‘son,
What a pun!
She came after you left –
At least Dad did smile,
And I still wish you were here,
Now...more,
Woke up this morn
Warm yellow beaming o'er me,
And I said – Life Stinks!
Still, there is today
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem