From lying on your stomach,
To Eating from your hand.
From joining my first school,
To never letting go of you.
You made me who I am.
From playing dolls with you,
To crying for 'mama' at school.
From wasting a lot of food,
To be finally resuced,
You made me who I am.
From not completing my work,
To screaming at you.
From you helping me,
To giving me a better view.
You made me who i am.
From getting all your care,
To showering all your love,
From breaking my hurdles,
To polish the path i take.
You made me who I am.
You are an artist, a sculptor,
Carving my flaws, carving a laugh.
I stand through all the storms,
My paint, still as ever,
Through the cloudy weather.
The stone, strong as a mountain,
Gentle as a lake, kind as a heart,
You are my creater, my sculptor,
But above all, you are,
My beautiful, darling mother.
You are the energy,
That this world couldn't give me.
You are my strength, my key.
Oh dear mother, oh my love,
Let me reveal the untold,
These words are nothing,
But the blood of my heart.
*****
Dear mom, happy birthday, I love you. Dedicated to my mum for being the awesome woman that she is.
Do comment and vote if you like this poem guys! :-)
YOU ARE READING
Voice Of The Heart
PoetryThe place that I live, is inside my head. And the only place apart from that, is in a piece of paper. There's no in-between. | I think, you feel. I I write, you imagine. I I bleed, you heal.
