"Motherless Child"
By Meshach Terfa
Anytime I look at my mother’s face
I see her dilemma staring in my face
And in my ears a voice that had been
Of me the only thing standing between
Her in the midst of life buried and unseen
And sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sunk into the dungeon of sorrow’s orchard
When a mother bestows a name upon a child
It reveals her hope: my mother named me Terfa
which means God knows; but sometimes I feel like a
Motherless child, a long way away from my home
Rioting with the memories of my mother’s face
And much less so those of my father’s face
But my tears
Are not fears
My hands that couldn’t reach
To caress the love in each
Of my mother’s heart that teaches
Endurance in the face of life’s stitches
I can see her smile shielding
The burden of my pain, unyielding
To the assault of my wails
Snowing without healing trails
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
As my mother said she will never ever hide
Nor leave but will always be there for me
Where Are You Now? Just look at me
And you will see my pain
As I daily strive to strain
Life’s coffee which I must serve
Whose taste I may not deserve
To take and so live to reserve
The love that I long to preserve
For you who love me passed the pains
Permanently dripping from life’s chains
That may effortlessly edge into a homicide
It is not hocus-pocus or pilgrimage to suicide
That I sometimes chess the option in the noose
With my neck as its guest but I benignly choose
To undo anything that might uproot
The hope of me dismembering the root
Of your tears for having a prime child infanticide
This is not a poem about any other child
Than I who feel like a motherless child.
Submitted: February 07, 2017
© Copyright 2022 Terfa Meshach MC. All rights reserved.
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How do you feel the blazes of this poem?
Tue, February 7th, 2017 9:58pm