~ A Mother's Broken Heart ~

I live in the city of Broken Heart,
On the streets of Desperation and Despair,
The number on the mail box has faded
And is no longer there.

The house appears to be empty,
But it's not, do come inside;
Here you will be met with tears...
This is where loneliness resides.

This dwelling full of pain, from words sharp
As arrows, that have perforated it's heart,
The house is filled with darkness black as ebony,
Where once was light;

Erstwhile the wonder of children’s laughter
Illuminated it's night.
The arena feels their absence;
They’ve taken their leave

And have not looked back.
My soul rents; I am desolate.

Who am I?

It's not their pity I seek;
I have not lain upon their
Threshold my responsibilities;
Nor do I bespeak.

My head I placed, once again,
Upon the chopping block; I visit, and I call,
The axe of rancor finds its target; it falls!
I hide the tears that wail up from my bowels;

It's time to take my leave I fear.
What do they care?
Quietly I slip out the door;
My heart is heavy as I wonder back

To the streets of Desperation and Despair.
“What heinous crime did I commit?”
I mull over and over in my mind;
Perhaps I misinterpreted Motherhood

Because it’s definition wasn’t clearly defined.
My days are numbered; my time draws near.
Of death I am not afraid,
For I know that God will wipe away every tear,

With him I will not be dismayed.
None of us are assured of living another day;
Just like those who have gone on before us,
In the end death WILL have it's way.

Janice Bumbalough Marler © 2005


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