Anna D. Kamas
When Mama Died
There I stood in the center of a room
Trying to understand what was going on
Were those tears streaming down my sisters' cheeks?
Why did my father look so all alone?
There were whispers I tried so hard to hear
Then suddenly I was hurried off to bed
It seemed ages since mama tucked me in
Was I not suppose to learn that she was dead?
How hollow were so many years to follow.