The sleeplessness of mother
She cannot rest, be still,
For in her heart, she knows the truth,
Her child is very ill.
Many lived before her,
And many yet to come,
But there can be no perspective
When it comes to a beloved one.
She wants to take the sickness,
Invite it to her soul,
“Consume my flesh and bones,” she cries
“But let my child be whole.”
The darkness just grows deeper,
The silence more profound,
And mother sits at bedside
No solace to be found.
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