Happy Birthday, Mom - Part IV: Precious as a Flower

It was wonderful to have a mother who was so great.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned sixty-eight.
When you became ill and died, everything went sour.
But while you lived, you were as precious as a flower.

Pink was your favorite color so you were buried in a pink dress.
I felt lost when you died but while you lived, I was truly blessed.
Nobody could've been a better mother than you.
You were one in a billion and that certainly is true.

When you became ill, I wanted you to get well but sadly, you could not.
I had to learn to live without you but I still miss you a lot.
I told you how much that I love you during your final hours.
Happy Birthday Mom, while you lived, you were as precious as a flower.


[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013.]


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741