This is poem that I wrote today after watching Buddy Wakefield
perform “Guitar Repair Woman” in London.
You said that you haven’t seen your mother in over 16 months.
As I watched the alcohol soak into your heart I wanted to say:
“I haven’t seen my mother in over 6 years
and I will never see her again in this life. ”
What will you do Buddy
when the woman that made you live
will be taken away by the night?
The night that you trust with your life
as your soul plays with death every night
Your sincerity made me feel tired and scared for you.
What happens when she isn’t yours no more but of death?
When she has taken all your trust away
and all that’s left is you.
When you’re all alone, hyperventilating
trying to steal the air of the ones who do have mothers.
Will you crumble? Will you die?
Or will you try and understand the 5 stages of grief?
Or will depression take away your soul
as your legs keep moving in this world?
I had to learn to trust people who are secondary to her.
Because mothers they have that thing,
that urge to be there for you
whereas others they will grow tired.
You will learn to settle or worse trust yourself.
Buddy how is this going to end?