This is a love poem for my mother who is at home
Where she eagerly waits until I finish reaping what I’ve sown
And yes we have established that her eyes are hazel and green
But there’s something if you look closely that I know you will not see
It hurts me to say but it is the reflection of me, not metaphorically speaking, I mean literally
And mom I can’t be there to be your aching heart’s savior
So I will do everything in my power with this pen, poem, and paper
And if this is not enough which I know it may not be
Well don’t you worry long because soon I’ll be free
No more poems will be needed even though I might still write them
Because the poet will be there in the flesh and you beside him
So like I said don’t worry long because soon you’ll see me
In your eyes but the reflection because in your presence I will be
~ Antonio Torres