I talk to your mother sometimes,
When you put stars in my sky,
On the darkest nights,
About her son who can smile but also cry.
Mom,
I know you saw the world in him,
I saw it too,
When I held him,
On my skin the flowers grew.
To make him smile,
You could walk on barbed wires,
To protect him,
You could quench forest fires.
I know I can't be you,
But I still try and try,
To be someone,
Who can stitch wings for him to fly.
-Akanksha. B
