Mummy, Please Wake Up!

You watched it in the news:

Stray bullet kills a mother

But you were reading the newspaper

So you flicked the channel

Looked for something more cheery

Because after all you had a long day

And that mother remained a statistic.

Of course, the Police Spokesman

Regretted the “unfortunate” incident

As armed robbers “had fierce gun battles”

Thus, that mother’s death

Drew a few lamentations here and a smirk there

Because she was a faceless woman.

Until I saw her son.

A cute, tender soul in Class Three.

That day, as her mother breathed her last

Between a Kiosk and raw sewage,

Her son tried to lift her up

Crying, “Mother, wake up, mum, let us go home...”

And as he upped his efforts,

He cried freely, swinging his mother’s lifeless arm.

That boy is an orphan now.

But again, he is a statistic, you know.

And he is faceless.

And somehow that makes us easy.

~
In response to Poets United's prompt Verse First -- REACTIONS