I wished there were options, but life never gave me a choice,
if tears had vapor enough to form my own clouds,
I'd reach through to the sky in request of my mother.
If I could describe love without words,
mama was a perfect picture,
the miracle on my lips, I called it out often.
The beauties in her eyes were evergreen in harsh times,
before I ever knew suffer was more than a word,
I'd walk on thorns thinking they were sleek.
When the future came,
I went out bustling to become the hero I saw in my mama's eyes,
but then I came home and met her eyes closed,
her mouth called out to me no more.