Hear Me, Mama - Jamaican Poem
by Joy McLean
Mama you tried, so dry your pulsing blood-shot eyes
Though you hear no voice, God has heard your many cries
Band your belly, Mama; the hurt in your bowels is far too great
You could not save him Mama, but for the others it is not too late
You slaved to feed them all; you have broken your very back
You have swallowed your pride just to keep them all on track
You have sacrificed your beauty; burnt it daily in the sun
Hopelessly, you have wondered if your struggles will be done
Your pickney’s eyes are empty; light they will never see again
His limp hands will never ever hold fire and cause brutal pain
He is really gone, Mama; prayers are great but this one is impossible
Mama, you already knew it in your heart; this moment was unstoppable
Rest assured, Mama, that you did only your very best
Gather these precious little ones to the warmth of your breasts
Sing your lullabies and console their shattered hearts
Pray hard for them, Mama, that they’ll escape life’s painful darts
© 2021 by Joy McLean
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