A mother’s mourning is different
Than a father’s mourning.
Her cries are shameless, without any regard
For her sanity, which flutters away
As her pain grows and grows
Just like her tired womb once did.
A father’s mourning silences the pain
Felt by him, for he did not wail or scream
Instead, let silent tears stream down his cheeks
His wails do not reach a heaven that stole
A life created on earth through love.
But a mother lets the gods know
what they took wasn’t theirs
That life was in her, it was her
She made room for that life, fed it
And she has the marks to prove it,
That life belonged to her, not to the gods.
A mother’s mourning is a hellish sight
Broken whimpers and blood curdling screams
Bursting out of a broken caricature of a mother
Her empty arms stretching for something
That will never be hers to hold again.
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Hi, I’m Baishali Das…
Hi, I’m Baishali Das…Hi, I am Baishali Das, an English literature graduate, and currently doing my Master’s. I love to write poems, stories and plays.
