TO MY MOTHER I know I’m probably too late, Always late to be honest Usually late to see the truth before my face Because I was the youngest I never cared about the cruel things I said But you were there to correct the mess I made And never failed to give it to me straight. Mother, you should see the great man you raised All the quiet sensibleness I learned to embrace Mother, you should see the big dreams I chased All the fortune and lucky strikes I was given by fate Mother, you should see the good causes I graced All that fiery anger I can now let rest for a space Mother, you should’ve drunk the finest wines I taste And approved a few of the world’s horrible stains I erased. I’m very sorry… I often ignored the pain you felt inside, I was rarely aware of your sacrifice, And seldom noticed how hard you tried to unconditionally forgive, and remain by my side. You knew the best way to guide or punish You knew how to send away my doleful anguish You taught me how to bow do