Forgotten Face

The hallowed grounds of family
are born of common blood
We’ve shared the early days where fights
were common to get attention
when too many brothers and sisters
filled the rooms too small

We shared common tears for those we knew
as uncles, aunts and mother’s friends
faces we’d so often see
would no longer be, too young to understand
confused by the thing called ’death’.

As time now replaces the rooms too small
when brothers and sisters that once shared that space
and now they’ve all grown and gone away
Mother now sits alone in that space
now large when once too small
and that once shared place has been forgotten
when for mother’s attention we'd begin our day’s race

We gather no longer and rarely communicate
as if our past and our blood has been lost
no longer the presence of that embrace
from our days of that once filled space
With our own mundane taxing ways
as our own kids now awaken for school
we prepare ourselves for our workday race

We banter now as adults do
no longer the petty fights about socks or shoes
but about the serious emotional dread
of what has been dishonestly disseminated about me
more importantly about mother’s health infirmed in bed

Now when our fights are through
no longer do we come together
how as children we once did
forgetting about whose sock or whose shoe
we no longer forget or forgive
our adult pride disallows this
and we don't call let alone embrace
forgotten is that hallowed ground of ‘family’
lost is that shared space and it’s common face