Stuck at the big 20 – A Birthday Poem to Mogo
It’s another birthday and it ain’t too happy
in fact it feels kinda crappy
see, you’ll always be
still twenty.
They tell me you’ll be forever young
and I just have to bite my tongue
coz from what I can see
forever young ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Morgan, you were such a beauty
but now you’re no way cutie.
I hate to be the one to tell
Honey, you look like hell.
In two years you’ve changed a lot.
There was that awkward stage of bones and rot
and now frankly, don’t mean to hurt
though forever young – you look old as dirt.
Oh yeah, how dumb,
that’s exactly what you have become.
Morgan, you’re 20 and holding, – your destiny.
Wish instead you were holding me.
241
Mom
It is an honor to read your words; to be let in to a moment of your anguish.
Morgan would wish to be alive and to be with you – more than anything; just as you wish she would hold you and you could hold her.
You ARE alive, and your son and your husband. The years are coming when life will be . . . . more comprehensive than the physical loss of Morgan, and this will not diminish her.
You have such courage! You are squarely facing something absolutely unthinkable.
Just had to say something . . . hope you don’t mind.
As Ann says, it IS an honor. For those of us who’ve been following this sad and cruel loss, it means a lot to be able to hear you and also to say we love you and we’re waiting alongside you for justice. May it come swiftly.