I remember holding Momma’s hand
So frail. So small. So bent.
Massaging her aging limbs.
Till her life and soul were spent.
How do I say thank you
For the many things she’d done?
I should have said it years ago
When my life had first begun.
She taught me so many things
Things needed to survive.
She didn’t teach me how to cope
When she was no longer alive.
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