This Mother’s Child


Lord, this mother’s child has run wild

In and out of this job

Turning a different way that knob

Still, I am a mother’s child

 

I can go home, if I want to

In God’s time, I will

Just knowing she’s there and true

An aching heart she would always fill

 

Like a vagabond were my shoes

My back so bad, I couldn’t bend

Shuffling along, picking up more blues

Trying to get along so I don’t offend

 

Days like this

What mother could have a child

Who misses her sweet kiss

However so gently and or mild

 

Maybe I missed her birthday

Always saying I’m on my way

Maybe showing up three days late

Always a place to sit and a really big plate

 

She would keep a place for me

Even to just to lay my head

So tired near blind I could barely see

In her eyes I never saw red

 

Yes, I’ve said it time and time before

Lord, I know I’m my mother’s child

The seed am I she bore

The wild child who wants to be mild

 

Days like this

What mother could have a child

Who misses her sweet kiss

However so gently and or mild

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s