Lady Madonna, who has children at your feet
I’ll do whatever as long as they can eat
I really wish things didn’t come to this
But, here me out, this is my last wish
My family is my life and I have a hard time thinking now
I trust if you stay, you will make it so some how
I’m not worried if you’re my father, mother, sister, brother or daughter
I was named Joan Lorraine, I am the family’s martyr
So hack me up, quick without pain
Let me leave here while I’m still sane
We’re both gonna die if something isn’t done
I could never do this so you have to be the one
To thine own self one must be true
Just know… I asked, you’re blood… I’ll never hate you
There’s always something to blame, sometimes we must
So we’ll go down together because in God we’ll trust
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
My mother, Joan, saying… “Let it be.”
DISCLAIMER
This poem was a challenge given to me and I wrote it in my Ford Explorer while driving to Pizza Hut. It is a sick idea. Not mine. But, given the thought of myself and a relative dieing of stavation and the CD playing in my SUV this is what I came up with in the 30 minutes I had. Again, I am not a sick morbid person but was challenged by other poets here to write this. I think I did ok.