My Son’s Wall

My Son’s Wall

My son is busy
Mending the wall,
The boulders keep falling
And he keeps mending and mending.
He is here for a vacation,
Too busy for a chat
For I am no fun for him
Greyer and older, I have become.
A burden!
With heavy medical bills,
I cannot tour the malls.
For my knee hurts
And I need a wheelchair to stroll.
I keep forgetting,
For age has set in
And my memory
Is at bay.
Last Christmas he was here,
I ran up and down the stairs
To make his favourite pudding
And Ouch! I fell on the slippery floor.
I cannot see my neighbour friend
For my son has set a big wall
A wall so tall,
That separated my only friend and me.
With no one to speak,
I lie in solitude,
My heart pounded in sorrow
The sorrow gave me a stroke.
In the days of youth
I worked day and night,
Forgot to live a life
For I lived for my boy
And not for myself.
And now I lie paralysed,
On my death bed.
With my son busy mending the wall.

About this poem

My Son's Wall is the voice of a sacrificial mother who goes over and beyond to take care of her son and his family. As the son matures he sets boundaries and neglects her. He feels he does everything in her best interest. However he forgets to spent time with her, love and care for her. An eye opener and reminder for the human race on - we will all age today or tomorrow and our older people needs more attention, care and love. It is not enough to take care of their material needs.  

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Submitted by snehasabu on February 27, 2022

Modified on April 05, 2023

1:03 min read

Quick analysis:

Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 918
Words 213
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 1, 37

Sneha Sabu

Sneha Sabu is an international strategist, author, motivational speaker and development thinker. She is passionate about issues affecting the human kind. She has written more than 25 short stories for children, 20 poems and several articles on social issues. She lives in Sydney, Australia. more…

All Sneha Sabu poems | Sneha Sabu Books

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    "My Son’s Wall" STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 May 2024. <’s-wall>.

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