This poem is untitled and was written sometime in the early 2000s. Now, it makes me think of my mother.
It’s difficult not to be sad,
When I think of you.
These times should be joyous,
But I can only think of the loss.
You’re with the angels now
A warm breeze in your flowing hair,
But I cannot share your happiness,
Selfishness causes my eyes to tear
Time became our combatant.
© 2021 Dimples and Grins. All Rights Reserved.