This is for my mom,
Who's s w a m p e d with various jobs.
From cleaning the pots
To working out how much our things cost.
You're responsible for a lot of things.
How do you keep up?
For the amount of responsibilities you have, range from the number of rings surrounding Saturn, to the liters of frozen water on Neptune.
But those planets are nothing compared to the big, bright ball of happiness you are.
The word Sun seems fit, but so far
You've S U R P A S S E D
Even that magical title by a long
Mile.
There are those moments where you're ready to POUNCE
Because of my u n f i l t e r e d mouth,
However, you'll still restrain yourself,
for who would want our easy-come-easy-go relationship to go south?
To me, all of that makes you perfect. No, it makes you perfect for me.
You know me like the back of your hand, you read me so e a s i l y.
So when you finish my own sentence, I'm no longer surprised, you see?
What makes you even more perfect, is the fact that you aren't prideful to share things from the P A S T,
You aren't scared to speak those things out again; afraid that everything present would no longer last.
After all, the Moon can't shine in the light, but it can in the dark.
I'm proud to be your child, and whenever you smile, those vagrant sun rays multiply into a full-on sunny day!
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Random Question: What date is your Mother's Day wherever you live, and where are you from?
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A Poet's Random Notes
PoetryThis is my book take a look. It's nothing special but that's my opinion to you. What have you got to lose? This is random poems I do on random days, so please mind my delay at times. love, hate, misery, joy, confusion, all summed up- all enclosed i...
