The start of life

Mothers.

Yes, we sometimes get angry at them, and sometimes think that they don't get kids' problems, or whatever, but they do care about you. This poem is to reflect on that.

It's about how they care on the inside, not how much they nag on the outside. So basically, this poem isn't about coaching people how to be meek and tidy their room or whatever- it is to show the second side of the story.

It's not cheesy or anything, just so you know. It's real.

All advice and comments are appreciated.

Lotus_Pond