​A month passed by, eyes still fixated on the door

She waited for her boy to return like before

She didn’t cry over his corpse, didn’t mourn his death

Just waited, every second, each heartbeat, each breath

The boy she’d made, womb to bosom to mind

The truth of his life, naturally difficult she’d find

The only reason she lived, since the day he was born

Forsake everything for him, she would, she’d sworn

That purpose of life dead, unsure what to do

Wait for a miracle, impossible though she knew

Too afraid to end it , she decided to wait life out

Hoping he’d come, smiling, turn her life about

She wrote out the memory of that horrid day alright

Easier to think he’s alive ,but far, life still bright

Looking at that door in the hope that he’d return

For all the love she gave him, he wouldn’t let her burn

The door did open, but the faces weren’t known

They took her, they said, where she needn’t be alone

Left her in a dark room, one door, one room mate

Waiting was all left for her, she didn’t care for her fate

She looked at this door now, waiting to see him back

They called her crazy, laughed, “Brains, she does lack”

The mother whose revival could only be sought through her love

They “treated” her, to no avail, “mental”, in her face they’d shove

In that dark room, a loving mother, a social outcast

Awaits her son’s return, just to breathe her last

Is an asylum the place for love, so massive? 

Does healthy mean stone hearted, distant, passive? 

For all that she’s worth, mentally ill they wrote away

Who are we to judge? Her life, and she has no say…..

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