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I told her to relax,
The sun would circle back;
Our orchids would then
Gloom into beautiful gardens.

I made promises on nature’s behalf,
The wish fathered thoughts;
Now I intercourse with regret.
And pointless yearning.

But I have to roll my boulder
Up the impossible hill;
No protest whatsoever,
Accepting the human condition.

To show her she birthed a star,
Pray I don’t become a black hole.
To write her name on stone
As the woman behind the man.

I know you bottle my tears,
I know you still pray for me.
I hope you don’t sob about
What my life has become.

You are probably not proud
But life is not generous, mama.
I first bled long before you passed away;
The mistakes are a constant.

Talk to God about it;
I can send you a petition.
Still, it’s wrong you had to die:
Changing one thing changed many.

©herbertUba2017

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