My mom…

Little feet tremble and tumble,
searching known hands that kindle,
she would lift me thanking the almight,
as if she saw all horizons in a sight.

But slowly as if her arms shrinked,
person’s the same but times change in a brink,
arms of console when no one gave,
her feet ran for me to save.

The eyes that wished just happiness for me,
So tiered they are that they need glasses to see.
A smile she has when sees my worry,
her lips all ready to tell a story.

She is like a lush green tree,
holding hardships to her and pleasant shade to me.
With her finger in my fist I surpassed every pain,
Every breath of mine is due her domain.



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