The last years of your life
So confined and constrained
Arthritis was rife
It hurt, and it pained
No solace you had
But to lay in your bed
Retreat to your books
Build a world in your head
I’ll never forget, Mom
All the stories and shows
We’d read and watch together
To forget this life’s woes
CSI, Nora Roberts
Your favorites, I know
You’d gleefully immerse
In her books, or that show
Oh Mom, how it hurts
To think of these times
It rips me apart
But keeps me alive
All that’s ahead
Everything I achieve
Is all due to you, Mom
And your love for me
You deserved so much more
How so badly I yearn
To turn back the clock
Give the life that you earned
The impossible, I want
The impossible, I need
Yet I’m forced to move forward
And to carry this grief
Your love for those stories
They’ve inspired me, Mom
And I promised you one day
That’d I’d carry that love on
One day, Mom, I swear it
No more tears will be spilt
When I cut that bright ribbon
When finally, it’s built
How the World Should Work 