% Wise Enough Poem by Laa Finita

for my mother


As she asked on and on,
I kept asking to myself:
How many people receive me,
with such a joyfull love?
For who I am the quid of life, *
the main subject of their heart?

For such a long time,
I've been entangled in old angers,
refusing what a difficult battle,
must have been, to be my mother.

What am I waiting for?
Apolologies, speeches, feelings?
She was not perfect, but she brought me
into this life, believing,
someday I'd be wise enough,
to forgive and be forgiven.

La Finita