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We Didn't Choose the Book

I came to see you better
in those final days because
you are my mother and
it's hard to get that in
perspective because
it's just a little bit too big
although we try
every chance we get
to tell mom
hey Mom, you're the greatest
love you Mom
my mom is my best friend
and mom's rule

But mom in the final days
although we didn't really know
that you would slip away from us
quite so suddenly
that one Sunday morning
it was afternoon when I got the call
my sister saying that you
just didn't wake up in the morning
and so we closed a chapter
on life and opened another
which we have yet to write
but mine will be filled with you
still because I remember
walking with you one arm
on yours just for love
and just to steady you. You
walked stiffly from the hip surgery
and you just get a little smaller
as real old age comes on
but just the physical part
Though you could say
everything starts to go
that's not really true
because Mom, you know
because you know
that love never forgets
I’ll never forget but I mean
you you never forgot love
although eventually you couldn't
remember much
well you would remember
stuff, but it got busted up
disjointed but Mom, it's cool
We we didn't choose the book
did we? No, we we didn't choose
the book, we just scribble
some little things into it

Notes: I write a lot, so often times I get something like this, which isn't very good. And yet it's like a photograph of me, so it has some value, at least to me. Also it is a stepping-stone perhaps in between good poems, and I would not have reached my next 'good' poem unless I had written this one.

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