ISHA McKENZIE-MAVINGA
Death of Yasmin
Daughter of freedom
emerged in
yet separate from mother's love.
Your lifeless body lifted,
placed inside the warm earth.
A mother's task complete,
fulfilled,
yet unfilled.
Bits left undone,
unsaid.
Too late now
too late to become those things
you would become,
done those things
you would have done.
Mother's hopes
when you were small.
Now you are grown
and gone
gone from the conflicts
of human life
gone
gone from the conflicts
gone from human life
gone.
At your end
remembered you were
about to begin.
And find yourself.
Find yourself in the adult world.
Find yourself in the world
of responsibility,
laughter,
pain.
Your young years
now soaked in
mother's tears.
Mother not allowed
to watch you grow
from seedling
into flower.
The pain of parting
for good.
The pain of parting.
The pain.
The pain of mother's love
for daughter.
The pain of mother's love
The pain of love
remains a sharp edge
of your memory.
wow, what a poem. I discovered this when I first was in wales. it was around some of the many books, my dad. the book was called sojourn edited by Zhana, and it is an anthology of prose and property reflecting black women in Britain today. This book is amazing, and at the time I found it this poem gave me a lot to think.
when I first moved to was I was very ill mentally and physically. wanting to take my life wasn't something new to me, and I had been in the mental health system for almost 5 years at this point. when you are in that headspace you don't think outside your own head, I didn't at least. I never thought about the effect it would have on though to leave behind.
after reading this poem I contemplated the stress and sadness I have caused my family. thinking about my siblings' id be leaving behind. this is what keeps me going. I do it for them.
never suffer in silence,
people love you
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