The Waiting Room

So tell me, son,

what's going on?

Seems like I'm in that waiting room.

You keep saying you will ring me,

but you can't pick up the phone.

I know I said too much - too soon.

I was taken back again,

to when my breath and life was suspended,

-back to when they took you away from me, son.

I feel I've overwhelmed you,

that we saw straight through each other.

That you want to know us-but just can't,

that you've already got a mother.

The waiting room is full of hope,

then despair, distress and grief.

Of traumatic memories coming into full view,

there just isn't any relief.

My son is now a baby again,

he cannot walk or speak.

He's overcome by his own trauma,

but just can't touch it ….yet.

Looks like I'm in for a long stint,

in the waiting room from hell.

A waiting room for lost mothers,

just hoping their loved children will call.

Kas May 99 Copyright