Comfort of A Mother
It was dark like an attic and I was alone.
I called my mother through the phone.
Like a mockingbird, she sung me a song.
A song that lasted so long.
A song so wondeful,
And a song so colorful.
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.