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My MotherWhen I was young, you sheltered me, for I was weak and ill.
Now you are weak, and struggle to keep your trembling hands still.
Your heart groans for the man you loved, never thinking to outlive;
I wonder in my heart, how much more must you give?
You gave your all to your family, without a second thought;
My dear sweet mother, how did you know that could never be bought?
You walked on crippled feet to tend us selfish, squealing brats,
While we screeched, clawed, and fought like a pack of feral cats.
You sacrificed your dreams to help us reach for ours;
You nurtured and guided us, just as you did your flowers.
Hoping someway, somehow, we'd bloom in our own way,
And though we differed greatly, we'd form a sweet bouquet.
I cannot speak for others, Mom, but I hope somehow you know
How very much I love you, though I fear I seldom show.
Your sacrifice was not in vain, for it taught us how to love;
And just how much you are like that sweet and holy dove.
I hope that in the years ahead, as I grow old and frail,
I never will forget the love you showed, forever without fail.
Well, I've said my piece, and set the matter straight;
No other mother could compare, you'll always be first rate!