Poem: Mother's Surgery

My Mother's in the Hospital;
Surgery for a broken hip.
I can't even afford to visit her.
What kind of Son am I?

The day will come
when She will die.
No longer will I be able to rely
on her sporadic
giftcards and money
in the mail.

Pathetic, poor, and weak,
I am.
Everything
my Father predicted.

I'm terrified
to be alone.
Though it feels like
I always have been.

My Mother's in the Hospital;
Surgery for a broken hip.
At least,
that's what
they tell me.