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A Letter to My Mom

Dear mom,
Lets face it
I can’t be you and its true
Its more like a closing prayer with my eyes open
I could still see that l could still paint the pains with my heart beating to the lyrics of your wish of me in another family
Mom, If I missed my way to your womb
You knew the chemist had pills too
Cause the only thing I have of you is a face
Like yours and a succulent body
I don’t even pray like you do
So talking about our prayer lives we’ll be teaching the Koran during bible studies
Or prolly telling eve to return the apple to the tree
Mom, we’ll be asking creation to start afresh

I know you must feel ashamed that I couldn’t be the carboncopy of you but at least our face made a photocopy.
I’m not even like your son
Whom I thought was my hommie
Cause he’s just like you and I’m not
I could literally see his tears in your sweat
If you check his smiles it has your finger print
To unlock your heart
To be the boy you sit up at 3am talking about life

Mom you were too busy with your son
You forgot you had a daughter
I even had to be tomboy
Just so we could talk
But I realized my words never had your DNA
I get it
Its just the obligations
Maybe we could be next door neighbors
When people talk about their mom, I wonder how mine made daddy her immediate brother

I’m not mad at you
Its a burning bush with no presence of God and the leaves are falling
I’m swimming across the red sea on my own
Mom have you tried being my sister; watching me raid your wardrobe
Laughing at our jokes, taking selfies and building true stories together
Cause the only memory of you I have is a wish.

Have you tried listening to my poems arms scripting verses with me
Have you tried being anything “I gave birth to you”
Have you tried being my best friend
Listening to my confusion and still figuring how amazing I am
Or maybe we could be school mate

Mom you think I am weird because I scream my soul out in another’s song like DJ Khali and listen to Joyner Lucas
Mom if I were trade I’ll pray to God to give me back my grand mother
But a mothers love is incomparable to the age of the sun and firmament
Not a day goes by I don’t love you
I’m sorry for the times I locked you out
Karma is the rent I’m not ready to pay attention to.

Dear mom, days I say I don’t care
I pray for you in my war room
So when I get mad at you, I put it in a poem knowing you won’t read it or maybe you have.


Mercy Obot

Mercy Obot is a journalist, entrepreneur and an inspirational writer who takes delight in emboldening people through real life stories. She also loves reading, listening to cool music and making friends globally.

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