Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Prodigal Son...

A woman waits by the gate
No one comes to see her

Time doesn’t heal all the hurt

Life seems as though it’s just fate
She’s never had it’s measure

Always felt like dirt

Children’s grins and twinkled eyes
Brings near to a face of stone

A faint and somewhat smile

More than enough time gone by
She has been so much alone

Been way too long a while

Longing heart trips a hammer beat
Eyes crinkle in disbelief

The prodigal son returns

Now of course, there’s no retreat
She breathes out her soul’s relief

For in her heart; love burns

Mother, mother I’ve missed you so
I was wrong, and I sorely regret it

Please forgive my sins

Oh my son, you must surely know
I love you more than a little bit

I’m so glad you’re home again

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Last few words: 
I heard someone say that they were going home again, after leaving home on bad terms with their mother. He said he was going on Mother's Day and he was just going to show up and hoped that he would be well received. I don't know how things went today, but I hope that it went something like this.
Editing stage: 


That all went well. No matter how old we are we still need our moms.

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

(c) No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.