The night my mother cried
I learned I had changed.
I couldn’t move. Didn’t move.
I said, ‘I wouldn’t interfere’.
The night my mother cried
I woke up to her wails.
I could only whimper.
I prayed, ‘make her okay’.
The night my mother cried
I saw my sister run.
I remembered me. Nothing’s changed.
I hung my head in shame.
The night my mother cried
Was not a night at all.
Early mornings are no longer good.
They carry my mother’s wails.
