What's locked away in her memory
Years of endless abuse
Not only giving, but recieving
Emotions she's never turned loose.

Does she realize all the wrong she's done
Tho at the time she thought it her best
After all these years, trying to justify
Before she goes home to rest.

I gently lean over to kiss her brow
A strand of gray hair I brush from her face
I take her frail hand to place over my heart
Saying, "Don't worry Mom, here is your place."

The tears now fall, rolling down her cheeks
Her hollowed eyes look into mine
She said, "Dear daughter, I knew you'd be here"
Without warning, I then started crying.

I cried for the years lost, that we can't get back
For the hurts inflicted on each other
Crying for the beaten old woman laying here
The broken spirit of my own dear Mother.