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.