Some days
I'm afraid to write
because sometimes
the honesty kills me.
Some poems subtly mention sexual harassment, depression and death. Read at your own risk.
All the poems in the book are my original and are not to be copied, exploited or otherwis...
Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
A sound so playful bestowed
Like sun rays playing through the window
Announcing the arrival of another day
And burning with it any previous dismay.
Like ma's voice waking me up in the morning
Scolding yet holds something warm in it.
Each clinking reminds of her warm hugs
Like petals closed softly around a little bug.
Engulfed in the protection of her flames,
Hidden from world's prying eyes and blames,
Being showered in her caressing gaze
Myriad of emotions displayed in a million ways.
Eyes that make me feel like her world
They speak arrays without a word.
Reminding me of each clap of appreciation,
Of each comforting arm relieving me of frustration.
Each hand lifted to comb my hair
Was followed by the soft clink near my ear.
Each hand tending to me during sickness,
Each hand supporting me in my weakness.
The colors remind me of her various forms
Towering like those bangles even in storms
My Wonder Woman with her hands in fists
Like the clinking bangles adorning her wrists.
Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
They say God cannot be everywhere so He sent mothers (or something like that... I don't know the exact words). It's not easy to be a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it. I mean we are little devils in disguise with our tantrums and whines.
Happy Mothers' Day to all the brave ones for not turning into Moaning Myrtle. *whispers* Especially mine.
