I can think of you, above all, dear Mum
in solitude, till the very last little crumb
A picture reposed silently on my thumb
This grain of pain. This desolate humdrum
And I can think of the wicked ways of some
Who don’t even the smallest cruelty shun
Yet, your duty was compelling, your sacrifice
when with evil you unhesitatingly cast your dice
That I should never forgive the cowardly villain
who brought this on. But you are a brave lion
An absolute warrior; quietly resuscitating carrion
I can thank your courage, an infinite trillion
This is always the way with selfish hateful evil still
gripping my resolute will, hijacking my tireless drill
This formidable self of you to do underdog battle
till the wicked undoing walls tumble and crumble
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