My Mother

My mother lived long
 outlived my father
 was a good  executor for long
 then let loose rather.

She spoke firm
 discipline was the essence
 later she became infirm
 lost her presence.


She commanded her staff
 we, children, looked up at her
 she turned an empty stuff
 her own son ill-treated her.


She was terror in her hey  days
 carried out her duties perfectly
 she became a puppet in later days
treated  by her son imperfectly.

She did not realize her mistakes
 thought she was doing well
 perhaps she was threatened in all takes
 she departed in her sleep as well.