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Tattooed
by Mary Ellen Smith
I mourn the baby flesh I birthed
And so cannot exalt in mirth
The fresh tattoos carved in your arms my son.
Whats done is done.
Forgive me then my small tirade
No shaking hands no big parade.
The tattoo artists needle bleeds to tears
A mothers fears.
My valentine to you is this
Besides a hug and then a kiss.
Your name is tattooed here upon my heart
Never to part.
02/14/2003 Posted on 02/15/2003
Copyright © 2025 Mary Ellen Smith
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 02/16/03 at 05:34 AM Good one Mary. " your name is tatooed here on my
heart never to part." I like that....Charlie |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/17/03 at 09:31 PM Very tender and sad! How many mothers have had such a lament! But love is stronger than a tattoo needle fortunately! |
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