Pots filled with raindrops, the roof
leaked a lot, things really started to
pour in, but regardless to what was
we didn't have the means to leave
Asthma showed its face, invading
my lungs, holding up my air space,
yet my good grace did what she
could to save me
She held me close, but the pain just
wouldn't let go, every time a breath
got shorter I faded farther away, like
I was off to my comportment in space
Voice flat as a tear on a line completing
its last free fall, I'd lay in her motherly
carriage almost down to my last
consummate
Wheezing, chest heaving and all,
I didn't die that day, no way I was
drowning in my own lake, I just
refused to let it be my fate
I never wished it away because
although I suffered I wasn't alone
My mother, my Queen, she was
always my safe space
—JG ©2026

