Artwork

She's a proud and loving Mother,

a few childish drawings still remain;

(she treasures each and every one.)

crayoned memories of her little boy.

 

Living room photographs

show a handsome child;

with bright eyes

and an infectious smile.

 

All the laughing snapshots

can never fill

this Mother's empty arms.

Nor will the cheery, childish drawings

ever erase the memory

of that final "drawing"

on the front sidewalk.

 

The chalk outline

of her only child,

as he lay so smal and bullet riddled

in the bright, afternoon sun.

And so much blood

from a five year old;

blood that still stains

the white picket fence,

surrounding the silent, hollow house

where she cries inconsolable tears.

Author's Note

I am aware there is something not quite right about the punctuation, yet I have not yet found the answers. Any suggestions will be appreciated.

Reviews

[Robin]

a reminder that art and life can be brutally honest

[Ruth]

Ohh I see what you mean love:) This is poignantly vivid!
Reality with poeticness!
Really moving hon!
Sometimes, things can't just be passed off with cotton wool covers and marshmallow taste! lol
Reality sometimes needs voicing! You have done so with great precision:)
Punctuation, I actually like it! lol
xx

[Liza]

i felt so much reading this
i sensed the pride
the joy of motherhood
and the tremendous loss
it ignited so much
and the writer moved the reader.