Mother's Symphony

The tunes fill out this mournful path,

A melody of insightful wrath,

That warms the body to its core,

Freeing the mind from hateful lore.

Keys are played and notes resound,

Like raindrops falling on the ground,

And the man looks up; eyes are seething,

Trying to steady his heavy breathing.

A forgotten symphony constrains,

Contracts and causes aural pains.

His fingers stiffen, memory stalls,

He’s lost his mother’s soulful calls.

© menshallknownothingofthis.co.uk 30.07.2009