A Loving Mother's Agony
Sitting bedside
Praying,
Hoping,
Tearing,
Wishing
She softly touches his forehead
Feeling for the temperature,
Avoiding the need
To rush in the middle of the night
To the emergency room.
She loves him so
And cannot bear his pain
His suffering,
His future.
Only if the kemo works,
She prays again.
He stirs,
Comforted by the thought
That she’s there,
Always there,
As she’s always been
And always will be.
“Damn you!”
She cries to herself,
Giving his painful future
A face,
An identity.
She thought she could protect,
Always loving,
But some things
Are just out of her power.
She continues to pray
And wait.
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