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Dear Grandma
#MothersDayPoem
The fragrance of my childhood,
Hides in the folds of your embrace,
The nothingness I smell,
the hunting words, DISGRACE!
Though a grand one, you're still a mother.
Years of mutual hatred,
always out of place, always a bother.
My own life dictated.
A change so subtle, I almost missed it.
I miss your cooking, when did THAT happen?
Was it when you stopped seeing me as the misfit?
I miss you and I mourn the past misshapen.
© Darali May
The fragrance of my childhood,
Hides in the folds of your embrace,
The nothingness I smell,
the hunting words, DISGRACE!
Though a grand one, you're still a mother.
Years of mutual hatred,
always out of place, always a bother.
My own life dictated.
A change so subtle, I almost missed it.
I miss your cooking, when did THAT happen?
Was it when you stopped seeing me as the misfit?
I miss you and I mourn the past misshapen.
© Darali May
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