
Momma, oh Momma
I can see your trauma
Bruises fresh and old
Your touch deathly cold
Your once rosy face
Pallid with lost grace
Your river of hair
Thin from lack of care
Greasy, neglected
Tired, dejected
Too late to correct
Trust men I elect
To help revive thee
Once more, be lively
Yet they lie freely
The fee high really
Your life sucked away
Youth gone in a day
You never held back
Gave and were still taxed
Oceans of fate flood
Rivers of love, mud
Dried, cracked, and sullen
Raging storms swollen
Tidings polluted
progress saluted
Your babes uprooted
Blemishes protrude
You give and you give
How long can you live
When those you give trust
Pull ore and leave rust?
When we are gone, dust,
Will you thrive, or bust?
How does this poem make you feel? Did you like it? Not like it? Let’s discuss in the comments below!
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