Mom? Mom?
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Mom? Mom?
I am calling you from the very depths of my soul - my being.
Death won't let you answer and I can feel it's icy chill come
down upon me.
Wanting to hear your voice, to see your eyes, to hear you
laugh - nothing happens and your silence continues to begin.
It is unbearable - the sadness, pain and deep emptiness pull
me down into the blackest despair.
There is no one I can turn to, as slowly, I turn over and die
deep inside for the rest of my life.
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