Mother Wept
Mother wept, and father sigh’d;
With delight a-glow
Cried the lad, “To-morrow,” cried,
“To the pit I go.”
Up and down the place he sped,
Greeted old and young,
Far and wide the tidings spread,
Clapp’d his hands and sung.
Came his cronies, some to gaze
Rapt in wonder; some
Free with counsel; some with praise;
Some with envy dumb.
“May he,” many a gossip cried,
“Be from peril kept;”
Father hid his face and sighed,
Mother turned and wept
poem by Joseph Skipsey

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When I Was Young I Cried
When I was young I cried when I was sad, when I was young I cried when I was happy, when I was young I cried when I wanted something, when I was young I cried when I was lonely, when I was young I cried when I had to say goodbye, when I was young I cried when my feelings were hurt, when I was young I cried when I wasn't accepted, when I was young I cried when I was mocked, when I was young I cried for attention, when I was young I cried when I was scared, when I was young I cried when I hurt others, when I was young I cried when I felt physical pain, when I was young I cried when I was jealous, when I was young I cried when I lost someone or when I was lost somewhere, when I was young I cried when I didn't know, and now as an adult I cry because I understand.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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Weep Not, My Wanton
WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe:
Fortune changèd made him so,
When he left his pretty boy,
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
Streaming tears that never stint,
Like pearl drops from a flint,
Fell by course from his eyes,
That one another's place supplies:
Thus he grieved in every part,Tears of blood fell from his heart,
When he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
The wanton smiled, father wept;
Mother cried, baby lept;
More he crowed, more we cried;
Nature could not sorrow hide.
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bliss;
For he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee:
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene

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Menaphon: Sephesta's Song to her Child
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy;
-
When thy father first did see
-
Such a boy by him and me,
-
He was glad, I was woe,
-
Fortune changed made him so,
-
When he left his pretty boy
-
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
Streaming tears that never stint,
-
Like pearl-drops from a flint,
-
Fell by course from his eyes,
-
That one another's place supplies;
-
Thus he griev'd in every part,
-
Tears of blood fell from his heart,
-
When he left his pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
-
The wanton smil'd, father wept,
-
Mother cried, baby leapt;
-
More he crow'd, more he cried,
-
Nature could not sorrow hide:
-
He must go, he must kiss
-
Child and mother, baby bless,
-
For he left his pretty boy,
-
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
-
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
-
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene

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A painful passage
I wept and wept, endlessly wept,
Like of which I have never wept
Save at the time of my mother’s death,
While some sequences I read
Off the book ‘The Blind Assassin’
Of Ms Margaret Atwild, wherein
A little girl, by name, Griffen
Watches speechless the gaze of the mother,
Who is in sick bed, the little sister
Being away at play, quite unaware,
And the mother in her feeble voice
Beseeching her to take care of her sister,
To which she assuredly nods and weeps
At the impending end of her mother,
Without thinking who is there to take
Her own care or that what is in store.
I wept and wept, endlessly wept
As the two little sisters resembled
My two granddaughters, me their mother,
As though their mother is in death bed,
With fear of death looming over my head.
I wept and wept, recurrently wept
When I read, wrote and rewrote
The above passage many a time.
27.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Missing Link
A sickly child lie
frail on the sofa in the living room.
A knock on the door,
His mother opened.
The man who entered the child knew it was his father.
Whose child is this?
“It is your youngest son” his mother said.
The children in the street
all had a father; the child had waited for him.
But his father ignored him,
gave chocolate to his sister and brother,
then he drank from a bottle,
his mother threw him out.
Next day asked his mother, ” are you sure he is my father? ”
She slapped her son’s face and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Unseen
something's wrong with mother always cleaning the house
and father complains for she does nothing but sweep and scrub
and dust and wipe and rub,
the floors are shiny and father does not like it
he may slide and the children too
and each may hurt the body, but mother cannot be stopped
and we complain like what father does, but mother does not
really mind, for she has become so hardheaded because father
slaps her and we make her deaf with our grumblings
until then when mother died and father cried and we felt we had all our
lives wasted, but there was one in the family who smiled
someone who thought that mother simply did what she liked best
clean the dirt, mop the floors, get all the spider's cobwebs
someone sees the beauty of mother, she's doing her chores still
but now unseen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Sephestia's Lullaby
WEEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
Mother's wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy;
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe;
Fortune changed made him so,
When he left his pretty boy,
Last his sorrow, first his joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
Streaming tears that never stint,
Like pearl-drops from a flint,
Fell by course from his eyes,
That one another's place supplies;
Thus he grieved in every part,
Tears of blood fell from his heart,
When he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
The wanton smiled, father wept,
Mother cried, baby leapt;
More he crow'd, more we cried,
Nature could not sorrow hide:
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bliss,
For he left his pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy.
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee,
When thou art old there 's grief enough for thee.
poem by Robert Greene

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They Used Up All My Tears
They used up all my tears
I cried for the mother that left me
I cried for the man who took her away
I cried for the brothers I couldn’t see
I cried for the family that abandoned me
I cried for the people that hurt me
I cried for those that were supposed to protect me
I cried for the family I lost
I cried for the family I needed
But when I went to cry those tears of happiness
There was nothing left
The tears had all gone
poem by Claire Fowler

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Mother & Father (Peter's Re-Invention Mix)
There was a time I was happy in my life
There was a time I believed I'd live forever
There was a time that I prayed to Jesus Christ
There was a time I had a mother
It was nice
Nobody else would ever take the place of you
Nobody else could do the things that you could do
No one else I guess could hurt me like you did
I didn't understand, I was just a kid
[Bridge:]
Oh mother, why aren't you here with me
No one else saw the things that you could see
I'm trying hard to dry my tears
Yes father, you know I'm not so free
[Chorus:]
I've got to give it up
Find someone to love me
I've got to let it go
Find someone that I can care for
I've got to give it up
Find someone to love me
I've got to let it go
Find someone that I can care for
There was a time I was happy in my life
There was a time I believed I'd live forever
There was a time that I prayed to Jesus Christ
There was a time I had a mother
It was nice
[bridge]
[chorus]
My mother died when I was five
And all I did was sit and cry
I cried and cried and cried all day
Until the neighbors went away
They couldn't take my loneliness
I couldn't take their phoniness
My father had to go to work
I used to think he was a jerk
I didn't know his heart was broken
And not another word was spoken
He became a shadow of
The father I was dreaming of
I made a vow that I would never need
Another person ever
Turned my heart into a cage
A victim of a kind of rage
I gotta give it up
[repeat twice]
[chorus]
Find someone that I can care for
Find someone that I can care for
I've got to give it up
[repeat five times]
I've got to let it go
I've got to give it up
Oh mother, oh father
I've got to give it up
I gotta give it up
[repeat six times]
song performed by by Madonna

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song For A Good Son
A summers day so long ago
A thousand boats dancing on the bay
I came to you inside a dream
We both held hands and fell into the water
You never claimed to know me well
The dark-eyed son, the privileged man
You fond me bitter, you thought me cold
Well now Im gonna make you understand
My mother died, my father cried
He left me lonely by the waterside
Waterside so deep and wide
If I follow, maybe I will find her
Beyond the salt and spray
The current carried her away
Beyond the salt and spray
The current carried her away
I cant outrun my destiny
Tell me who will sing a song for me
Darkness darkness cover me
By my own hands the way it has to be
My mother died my father cried
You will find me by the waterside
Waterside so deep and wide
If I follow, maybe I will find her
If I follow, maybe I will find her
song performed by by Bangles

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Cried
seeing her child
part from her, the mother cried
she cried hard
for just one more glimpse
of her dear child
ruthless was the society
who didn't accept the mother's child
though the mother loved him loads
despite knowing his illness couldn't be cured
everyone rejected him
no one was ready to accept
though he was one of them
the mother cried and cried loud
yet no one came to help from the huge crowd
her child wasn't different
from the others in line
what made him unique
was just the way people looked at him....
poem by Areena Arora

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I cried Today
I cried today...and not cuz ur gone but becuz i thought feelingz were strong
I cried today...and not by myself but wit that Keyshia Cole Song
I cried today...and didn't know what to do for the 1st time in my life
I cried today...It was worst pain then gettin shanked wit a knife
I cried today...about u and me, and where we go frm here
I cried today...wit so much PRIDe it was HARD to hold bak tears
I cried today...I wrote a poem I even rote a rhyme
I cried today...As if I weren't used to dis I cry all the time
I cried today...Thinking about the love that we once shared
I cried today...I cudn't see clearly..as if my vision's impaired
I cried today...And I really don't care how much they call me dumb
I cried today...cuz they dont know what it feels to be REALLY in love
I cried today...without a sound but, wit the reality in my mind
Tellin me I don't gotta cry TOday....cuz love will only TAKE TImE!
poem by Nesean Coombs

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The Origin Of Death
In the Day ere Man came,
In the Morning of Life,
They came together
The Father, the Mother,
Debating.
'Forever they shall live,
'Our Children,
'When they are born Men,
'Forever they shall live,'
Said the Father,
Said the Mother.
But the little Bird cried,
Ah, the little Bird cried:
'How shall I nest me -
'How shall I nest me
'In their warm graves
'If men live forever?'
poem by Anonymous Americas

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The Old Man's Comforts and how he gained them
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
The few locks which are left you are grey;
You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth would fly fast,
And abused not my health and my vigour at first
That I never might need them at last.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And pleasures with youth pass away,
And yet you lament not the days that are gone,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth could not last;
I thought of the future whatever I did,
That I never might grieve for the past.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And life must be hastening away;
You are chearful, and love to converse upon death!
Now tell me the reason I pray.
I am chearful, young man, Father William replied,
Let the cause thy attention engage;
In the days of my youth I remember'd my God!
And He hath not forgotten my age.
poem by Robert Southey

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Mothers Are Wonderful
mother you so wonderful
you fade me in your stomach for 9manth
you nursed me well until now i love you mother
mother you wonderful in nursing you are like nurse
when i cried to you one night you loved me so much
you endured sleepless night when was sick
you showed me you care so much
there nothing am going to give you mother
because i can't pay until you are satisfied
but i will try so much in presence to help you
in each task you want, mother i love so much
when my father chased you out his home, you went with me
when my father died you took so much care to me
mother you deserve blessing from GOD
poem by Ahmed Kakembo

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Her Mother Doesn't Know.
Rosina's baby sister died.
The cot stood empty
in the darkened room.
Don't go in there
her mother said.
Rosina opened the door
and peered through
the gap instead.
The toys were still there
by the pink pillow and cover.
Leave the room alone
said her grieving mother.
Moonlight shone upon
the place where baby sister
once turned her face
and smiled or made
her baby noise.
Quiet now the room.
Unplayed with
the idle toys.
Mother cried at night
and often in the day
and stared through
the window at the far off bay.
Father was away
in some distant war
keeping his head down
in some foreign land.
Rosina's baby sister
was buried deep
beneath the ground
in a small white coffin
dressed in a ghostly shroud
with songs sung sadly
and tears in the crowd.
Rosina peered through
the gap of the door
at the cot
and moonlight's glow.
She's seen her baby sister's
ghostly smile
but mother doesn't know.
poem by Terry Collett

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We Cry
The 10th of June, passing of our Son
We Cried
9mins holding him tight, words not spoken
We cried
Time of Death given,8pm
We Cried
Just 7 doors down from home, is all we keep saying
We Cried
6 Drunken teens, drove down our son that night
We Cried
The Fifth Commandment, thou shall not kill
We Cried
Four days later, our son lays beneath the earth
We Cried
The Driver receives 3yrs, is that my sons worth
We Cried
Two years good behavior, he walks the streets
We Cried
We only had One son his name was Micheal, our son
We Cry
It shouldn't have been his NUMBER calling
Still here we Cry
poem by Brad Phillips

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The Stepmother
First she come to our house,
Tommy run and hid;
And Emily and Bob and me
We cried jus' like we did
When Mother died,--and we all said
'At we all wisht 'at we was dead!
And Nurse she couldn't stop us,
And Pa he tried and tried,--
We sobbed and shook and wouldn't look,
But only cried and cried;
And nen someone--we couldn't jus'
Tell who--was cryin' same as us!
Our Stepmother! Yes, it was her,
Her arms around us all--
'Cause Tom slid down the bannister
And peeked in from the hall.--
And we all love her, too, because
She's purt nigh good as Mother was!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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The Orphan Boy's Tale
Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale,
Ah! sure my looks must pity wake,
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale.
Yet I was once a mother's pride,
And my brave father's hope and joy,
But in the Nile's proud fight he died,
And I am now an orphan boy.
Poor foolish child! how pleased was I,
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,
And see the lighted windows flame!
To force me home my mother sought,
She could not bear to see my joy;
For with my father's life 'twas bought,
And made me a poor orphan boy.
The people's shouts were long and loud,
My mother, shuddering, clos'd her ears;
'Rejoice! rejoice!' still cried the crowd;
My mother answered with her tears.
'Why are you crying thus,' said I,
'While others laugh and shout for joy?'
She kiss'd me -- and with such a sigh!
She called me her poor orphan boy.
'What is an orphan boy?' I cried,
As in her face I look'd and smil'd;
My mother through her tears replied,
'You'll know too soon, ill-fated child!'
And now they've toll'd my mother's knell,
And I'm no more a parent's joy;
O lady, -- I have learnt too well
What 'tis to be an orphan boy.
Oh! were I by your bounty fed!
Nay, gentle lady, do not chide,--
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread;
The sailor's orphan boy has pride.
Lady, you weep! -- ha? -- this to me?
You'll give me clothing, food, employ
Look down, dear parents! look and see
Your happy, happy orphan boy!
poem by Amelia Opie

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Shannon
Love lasts forever, isn't that true
Shannon asked that once of me,
And with a smile on her face
I then spoke with no haste,
I said yes, and too her I did agree.
She was a child, but knew not of truth
And she wanted that story to be so true,
As sadly her own mother has been
With yet so many, many men,
So about love, Shannon had not one clue.
Though she read it in books, and heard it in stories
Maybe that's why Shannon was so confused,
As she always saw her mother
With yet again, a different lover,
So poor little Shanny the truth she never knew.
Love lasts forever, to me she cried
As she showed me a picture of another man,
Though the picture wasn't of me or her father
So she wept for the pain a little longer,
As she wished, her mother could just understand.
The church said marriage is forever, Shannon spoke
Not only for a second, or a minute, or just a day,
To her statements I nodded and I agreed
And I told her, to her words always do heed,
And then in my soul, for her I did pray.
As the day will come, when she will be a woman
And I hope not like her mother that she loves,
As all Shannon wants is too be loved forever
By one man and not one man after another,
As one love for her, will always be enough.
Love lasts forever, that's what the bible has said
As Shannon ran to me with a smile upon her face,
God, he will join two souls as one
And they will be forever from dusk until dawn.
And never, will they ever fall from Gods great grace.
I want just one man, to come into my life
That I will love with all my heart and soul,
The man who will always be at my side
Even though we might argue and fight,
But one, and I swear I will never let him go.
I will never use my man, Shannon then did swear
And never will I put anyone above him,
I also promise I will not be like my mother
As my man I will love only him and no other,
And all I ask from him, is his love to me send.
Love lasts forever, I do believe that now
As Shannon spoke with happiness in her mind,
She then slowly closed her eyes
Then I could see the tears as she cried,
As she wished, and prayed for that day in time.
She spoke with wisdom of age, when she spoke
About a forever together with your love,
She told me one day she would enjoy it all
And never will she let her love fall,
And never from her one love will she have enough.
Poor little Shannon, the sadness that she has seen
Not even allowed to know her real last name,
She was never given a father to love
Only different men, to know and then hug
Poor little Shannon I pray, that you’ll know his name.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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