Wednesday, 27 June 2012

things left unspoken

my mother sat on the kitchen stool,
the kettle was hissing soft and slow,
she forgot to took off her shoes and left trace of dirt on the floor.
her Dior she sprayed this morning wafted in the air,
and her wavy long hair fell on her face.
her lipstick started to fade from her lips and she smiled at me.
my mother was beautiful,
but why she cried that day, I had not known.

I rested my tired head on my mother's shoulder,
my world was crumbling,
and I just lost all my strength,
the whole thing was just a mess
it didn't go the way it should.
and never before I felt fear this immense,
I'm falling into this pitch black hole
why I cried that day, she didn't ask

but she knew.
very well in fact,
the price of a freedom
and sacrifices for contentment.
her Dior smelled sweet,
and still she said nothing

but her silence that day said more than her words.

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