Blow on your coffee, It’s hot n’ bittersweet.
Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day, but it’ll feel like a week.
A week to sit and contemplate decisions in the past.
I know this hurts girl, but baby it won’t last.
Us on the outside may enjoy candy and flowers.
While the jail bird sits in emotion until she is devoured.
Devoured by the Clank of that cold steel door.
Wishing for her child to surround her once oh, once more.
I’m writing you this poem from the bottom of my heart.
Though I am but a stranger Writing this on a card.
I wanted to remind you that Mother’s Day is tomorrow, and to ask you to swallow that hard lump of sorrow.
Because Mother’s Day is everyday I want you to see, every day that passes a mother you will be.
No one can take that from you, not the warden, not the law.
Not your convictions, and not even your flaws.
Grab your pen and paper and write that baby a letter, let them know that you, their mother will love them forever and ever.
So jailbird sing, many of us can hear you, pretty jailbird sing,
I’ll kiss my boy for you. I’ll take his cheeks for granted no more, that will represent the love for whom you adore.
So I say to you happy Mother’s Day, the struggle is real, I hope in some way my poem helps you heal.
Yes. These flowers are for you!