A Mother's Plea Poem by Victoria Revier

My son no longer knows my face
He knows not of the sacrafices I have put down for him
The hours in the hot press room
Arranging letters
Erasing his past
I sit here under this tree he used to play round
So many years ago
He does not recognize the gleam in his mother's eye
As she gazes upon her son and whom he has become
I would call him a monster, a demon even
But seeing him here in the flesh,
It melts my heart to ash
He whispers to me from some far away land
Oh how I wish he could know me
Oh how I wish I could lie to myself longer
Oh how I wish he truly where here
Instead of just the mist on my skin
A taunting reminder of what could have been.