The Portrait - Amanda McBroom

There's a picture in a silver frame

Hanging dusty on my wall.

And two people with their eyes

The same holding daisies, I recall.

And the baby in the sailor dress

And the pigtails - that was me.

And the other was my mother

On our Easter by the sea.

People tell me that I'm just like her

And I wonder what they see.

She was lady, lace and cameo,

Not the gypsy, that is me.

She spent her evenings making poetry,

I spend my nights making time.

And I wonder,

Am I living partly her dreams,

Partly mine.

What would she think of the too many men

The lies I get lost in, again and again

The tears in the morning,

The booze and the blues in the night.

It's been years now since I've seen her face,

Heard her footsteps on the stair,

But just lately in my dreams at night,

I will call her and she's there

Looking pretty like she used to

Before time and tears tore her apart.

And she tells me that she loves me

Then she leaves me in the dark.

Mama don't leave me,

Mama don't go.

You know the answers to all I don't know.

My dreams come up empty

And my hearts lying dead on the floor.

Mama don't leave me,

Mama please stay.

Mama I need you to show me the way.

I'm lost and I'm lonely and

I can't find my way anymore.

Mama -- Mama