Mama. Mama, where are you? Oh Mama. Mama, why am I so cold? Mama, oh Mama, oh Mama... Why did you let me go so? What did I do? How could I have shamed you before my first breath? Oh Mama, Oh mama, why can't you love me... Love me like you love my brothers and sisters? I know my clothes are dirty And my legs don't work well, But I am a clever boy, Mama. Mama, if you'll just take me home, I will be a clean and good boy; I'll even scrub behind my ears. Mama, please... Oh Mama, take me away from these streets. Take me away from these noises. Take me away from those men... Those men who kick and stomp on my every night, Then they laugh, They howl, And the women, they cackle, All this while I cry in the shadows of a building, with no way to nurse my wounds. Oh Mama. Mama, I promise not to come in your way. Mama, I can carry that firewood for you. Oh Mama, please just take me home. I promise to be good. Oh Mama. Oh Mama, it hurts, those things he does to me. Mama, I feel so ashamed, But I cannot hide, There is no where to go, When I try to run, she catches me And then he laughs. Oh Mama, It's so cold. Why am I so cold? Oh Mama, oh Mama, please oh please. Mama, if you'll just find me. If you'll just take me home.

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Dear Reena,

Beautifully written, heart wrenching, familiar, a shame these sort of things happen to children, I wan't to scream "WHY?" I want to shake the world up and get all their attention and say "WHY?" But, most of all I would like to ask the world, "WHY DOES IT STILL GO ON??????"

I share in your grief... With Love, Rose Of Sharon

Dear Rose Of Sharon,

Thank you for the positive response to my poem. It is unfortunate that there is enough truth in what I wrote that I have the material to write it. There is so much goodness in the world, hopefully it will spread to these forgetten souls and assist them in living a better life.

Thanks again,


While I can understand the boys wish to be safe in his mothers arms again it also burns my soul in a way too... Just how unfair life can be, I guess. After my mom's first husband died she caught TB and her children were taken away from her and she could not get them back afterwards. It tore her soul apart knowing how much they all longed to be together and her being unable to manage it for them. It really makes me want to kick, bite and scratch the world's eyes out that things like this can happen and a good soul like my mother turned to drinking to block out this unbearable pain of separation. Every time I see a poem like this I imagine her self-loathing at not being able to provide my half brothers and sisters a home together and I get soooooooo angry.

It burns me that these poems are directed at the woman who have very little power to decide their fate and make them feel even worse about themselves then they already do. Why are there none directed to the father? Or to the men in power who create this system in the first place? Why pile more shame on the woman? It just seems so unfair!!

But I guess we should be happy that it is his mother he longs for, that it is his mother who can provide that shelter against the storm with what little strength she has left...


Dear Maria,

I really appreciate your comment and moreso that you opened up so easily and shared something so personal with me.

I agree, it is unfortunate that we live in a patriarchal society that tends to see mothers as the root cause or blameworthy party when it comes to assessing our problems. However, one cannot deny the strong link between a mother and her children. When I wrote this poem, I exempted the boy's father from it simply because the boy is, as you rightfully noted, looking for comfort. Human tendency is to look towards mothers for comfort... possibly a reflex from being in the womb. Now, as he lays dying on the streets, having suffered sexual abuse, as well as other forms of abuse, he is broken... he is cold... he simply calls for his mother. I did not wish for my poem to accuse his mother of abandoning him, although that is one of the possible undercurrent ideas in the poem. I simply wanted to illustrate what the boy had suffered living in the streets.

Another possible way to interpret the fact that his father is totally non-existant in the poem is that the boy has no relationship with his father. In actual fact, he has no relationship with men, except for his rapist. There is no value in mentioning someone who does not even exist for you, so no reason why the boy would call out to his father. Despite his mother possibly abandoning him, he still loves her enough to plead for her love, even now, as he takes his last breath.

I hope my explanation of what I was attempting to portray through my poem alleviates any uncomfortable feelings that you may have felt, as well as alleviate any anti-feminist notions that may have been portrayed through my words.

Thank you again for your comment.