Joel Woodard Poems

She left on a wisp it was my absolute last wish if only I could have given her one last kiss for I hadn't known how much I'd miss
My mother was my rock the only one who could make me stop but now I keep falling without any rock to help me block
Now my mother rests in a ceramic dish, so cold and blue not so reflective of her bright soul turned to mist
I put my goals on lock as I stare at the clock waiting for my life turn anew, but even after I did all I could do I still feel like a fool
...