Son's Lament, Sinisterly, and Regret

May 22, 2012
By Dominick Fini BRONZE, Mount Prospect, Illinois
Dominick Fini BRONZE, Mount Prospect, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“I’m disappointed”
She said, from what I remember
Upon the pure white hospital bed
Wrapped in warmth, underneath numerous layers.
She grabbed my hand, just before she said it
Like frigid snow before it turned to ice,
And her eyes stared at me pale and discolored
Unsure if I was who she thought I was.
It haunts me, even after all these years
Her apparition lays in my bed repeating
I’m disappointed, I’m disappointed,
What did I do?
Guilt hangs like shackles, heavy from constant wear
She felt pain towards me, and now she’s gone.
My dear mother, I’m sorry,
For whatever anguish I set upon you in your ageless state.
This rocking chair is all there is to remember you now.
These floorboards are as old as me, and creak just like I do,
With every movement, they creak just like a do.
I can’t remember you on this chair ever, mother,
I cant’ remember the dresses you wore in the day, mother,
I can’t remember your face anymore either,
Mother.
Tell me what you look like, when I reach the top stair,
Whisper to me stories of knights and kings
Whilst I stumble into slumber upon this old creaking chair.



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