Sunday, January 12, 2014

A.I.D.S. & my mother



A poem about AIDS and the  untended victim who suffers from it



I am hardly in my twenties ... 
too early .. perhaps to visit those pearly gates ... 
I confess ... I did a few bad things ... 
My sins catching up with my atrocious mistakes 

Booze , sex & Drugs ... 
Life seemed utterlly thrilling .. 
And here I lie on this bed ... 
My life .. hardly worth a shilling.. 

She sits by my side ... 
the true victim of my disease ... 
For I would be long gone by then .. 
her sorrows would hardly cease .. 

She cried the other night ... 
a sight I wouldn't recommend you to witness ... 
Her tears straight from the heart... 
her soul long lost its ability to suppress 

She tells others .. that I have cancer ... 
Not for her sake ... but purely for mine .. 
People's prejudices .. cutting her to the core.. 
She comforts me bravely .. her heart brought to the fore. 

My life gravely outnumbered .. 
I regret those heady days .. 
My sole comfort my mother 
I live purely for her gaze ... 

And then that fine morning ..my mother nowhere to be found .. 
The doctor presses my palms .. the message understood unsaid 
I am responsible for this .. I know.. 
My mother .. a victim of my mistakes 

I utter a painful eulogy 
my guilt cutting my soul to shreds 
There .. lies my dear mother peaceful 
Her son ... no longer alive . no longer dead