A Mother's Deadly Love

by GreenTulip

Published October 21, 2015

In Random Poems

Nearly all is silent in the house,
expect for the rain pounding at the windows,
and the wind howling like wolves
just beyond the safety of the walls.

Coats are thrown everywhere,
carelessly lying upon the ground.
Contrasting with the neatness around it.

Silence greets a family that doesn’t acknowledge.

Blood splatter covers the walls.
“What a brutal decoration.”

Traveling further and further into the home,
a stranger finds a child.
So innocent faced, yet lying so still.
Pretty blue dress, stained with scarlet.

Looking up from the girl,
he finds the rest of the family.

The father is next, arms thrown out
as to protect the little boy behind him.

Then the mother by herself.
Covered with blood,
where it seems like all of it isn’t hers.

Inside her clenched fist,
sits a knife still dripping with fresh blood.

“The murder weapon perhaps?”
The stranger thinks out loud to himself.
“What would cause such a lucky mother,
to such an extreme measurement of punishment?”

Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
Mageheart
Review
Mageheart wrote a review Review · Oct 22, 2015

I really liked this!
The first thing that I noticed and: The use of the stranger viewing the situation. You don't use the words I or you, and that strangely satisfies me.
The second thing I love is the stranger's comments. I love how he or she says, "What a brutal decoration." I can't tell if they're horrified, or if that's supposed to be somewhat humorous. Either way I like it. :D
Then there's the questions this leaves me with. What caused the mother to snap? What happens to the stranger? And will the father and son survive?
This is some really awesome writing. Keep up the great work (which I doubt you'll have trouble with) and good luck with all of your writing endeavors!

Thank you so much for your kind review. I didn't really think about that when I started writing this poem. (I had someone worry about my state of mind because of this... or maybe it was he was worried that someone had hurt me.) I feel like going into why the Mother did snap would have detracted from the rest of the poem, so I left it at the question. Maybe it could pass as humorous horror? Like when you laugh to try to avoid the truth.

And if you ever have any poems or anything you'd like me to read, just pop over to my profile and leave the link there.

:)
Tulip

User avatar
Sejal Comment
Sejal commented Comment · Oct 21, 2015

Sso touching... I guess it came from the bottom of your heart and the core of your soul!
It's just awesome coming across such a great talent like you and am just..I've no words to describe how great it is to come across such a wonderful poetry that made my day.... And not to forget, right now, you're the reason of my smile and excitement....
You made me realize that I've not written today and now, am rushing for my diary and pen cause I've got sso much amazing things in my mind to express through writing!
Thanks and don't forget to check out my new published Be You book...... Please check it out! I beg you..
Thanks and love,
Sejal ♥♥♥

User avatar
Sejal Review
Sejal wrote a review Review · Oct 21, 2015

Sso touching... I guess it came from the bottom of your heart and the core of your soul!
It's just awesome coming across such a great talent like you and am just..I've no words to describe how great it is to come across such a wonderful poetry that made my day.... And not to forget, right now, you're the reason of my smile and excitement....
You made me realize that I've not written today and now, am rushing for my diary and pen cause I've got sso much amazing things in my mind to express through writing!
Thanks and don't forget to check out my new published Be You book...... Please check it out! I beg you..
Thanks and love,
Sejal ♥♥♥



The idea that a poem was a made thing stayed with me, and I decided then that I wanted to be an artist, not just a diarist. So I put myself through a kind of apprenticeship in writing poetry, and I understood even then that my practice as a poet was deeply related to my reading.
— Edward Hirsch