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Squeeze MY arm

 My mother in her forties

And prior to that also,

Suffered from stomach ulcers

Her pain, I did not know.


Oft, in foetal position,

Found, laying on the floor,

Her sole relief from aching,

So it would hurt no more.


Because of this, some med'cine

Would take aft' pre-bed snack,

In hope and trust she'd sleep well

The pain would not come back

              

Whene'er she'd take a spoonful,

She clenched her fist so tight,

'Twas an innate  reaction

To grab, with all her might.


As youngster, (single figures)

I'd noticed all she'd do,

So offered my wee wrist and arm

Something, to grab onto.


"It's okay mammy, doesn't hurt,

My arm, you can, hard, squeeze,

If it does help your stomach,

With all that pain, to ease."







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