Mother

You induce me to live

With your windy concern,

When time is all I ask for.

A book. A bed. A machine. 

I was born into bonds,

A family of relationships

Hidden behind the closed doors

And deep walls of humanity.

If the flowers still bloomed

And the houses weren't home,

I ask you, Mother,

Would my existence be hanging

By the same thread?

Reviews

[Antonio Valentino]

wow, that was splendid..

the, windy concern, bit was a tad, cheeky, as you say on that side..

so much to ponder in this fairly short but deep piece..

ahhh mothers.. what can you do right..

wonderful write

:)