Elegy

No mist, or cloud could describe the mass.
A mother’s love lost, replaced by fog.

Its thick, white shroud covered my heart
Posing as protection, blocking my view.

Some days more dependable than loves shut out
The cloak became a comfortable part of me.

This fog and I were once the best of friends.
But I’d rather it had been my mother’s love.

© 2015 kegarland

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