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What can I say to the women who gave me life?
She whom without her womb I would be nothingness
Floating boundless without her gentle hand to
Guide me back to the comfort of the warm home
That she built with her own hands
How could “thank you” ever be enough to explain
How grateful am I that she sacrificed her body for me?
What words could express the debt that I owe her
As she made me the man that I am today?
She who gave up everything so that I could have it all
If I spoke now, crying out to the frigid wind
Would she hear? Would she answer the call
Of her baby now become a man? And if she could hear
What would I say as I bared my soul to the gods above
What words would be worthy to disturb her divine slumber?
I wonder what goes through her head now free of pain
And sorrow. Would she be guilt ridden for damning me
To walk alone? Or would she be proud of the boy that
Is now on his own? What goes through your head, if
In fact you think? Are your thoughts here with me?
If I spoke and she heard my words, how would she answer?
Taking time out of her eternity to watch the struggles of
Her finite offspring. If I could speak, and find the words
To tell her I am grateful for the gifts in me she did nurture that
I will carry on. Her answer would be that she is here even though she’s gone