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Mama
A mother, to me,
Is the one who lets you go
Takes you back
Lets you go
Buys your boots
A mother, to me,
Is the one who helps you grow
Lets you shrink
And retrench
Tends your roots
A mother, to me,
Is the one who stays behind
But whose hand is always open,
Strong, outstretched.
A mother, to me,
Doesn't simply come along -
But somehow, she never needed
To be fetched.
Is the one who lets you go
Takes you back
Lets you go
Buys your boots
A mother, to me,
Is the one who helps you grow
Lets you shrink
And retrench
Tends your roots
A mother, to me,
Is the one who stays behind
But whose hand is always open,
Strong, outstretched.
A mother, to me,
Doesn't simply come along -
But somehow, she never needed
To be fetched.
no subject
(I first typed "wound" instead of "wouldn't". Ta, subconscious.)
Actually, she can be (some of) that. But I have to demand it.
no subject