Never A Stranger

April 13, 2018

I stood there with bitter of heart

And broken of heart.

How could the woman who stood before me,

Bore at me with such eyes of appointment?

We stood only one foot away

But we were planes apart.

I wished I had told her what she meant to me.

She had kinky black hair

And a loving character.

I could never ask of a stranger to

Love me. Respect me. Cherish me.

And try to understand me.

But she was never a Stranger

She was always and forever

Will be my Mother.

In this world if I cannot ask such simple things

Of this from my very own Mother,

Than who can I count on?

I wonder if this is a scarring reminder

Even though someone should be

Within our reach.

With one look they can become a Stranger.

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