Rewriting Memory
She used to have this beautiful long jet-black hair
It’s one of my earliest childhood memories
She used to comb it right in front of the mirror
And then she’d wear other little accessories
There was one time when she didn’t say goodbye
She later confessed she didn’t want to hurt me
But at five I didn’t understand the drama
When my momma had to go to another country
For four years I received presents, letters and calls
She was working and trying to provide for me
But when the threat of war was quickly approaching
That’s when my momma finally would send for me
Perhaps my disorder didn’t let me see
Later I understood the sacrifice she made
And maybe yes, she should’ve given me a hug
But she too was young and was probably afraid
In an old memory I wish for one embrace
The one that assures a child, all will be okay
Now as an adult every time I cuddle her
My little baby soul feels right and bright as day
Powerfully penned, Wally. Excellent write that grabbed me by the heartstrings my friend. Nicely done as always. Appreciate you.
Damian