Poetry

I call her “My Mum”

It all started in her lap that day,
When I cried and she smiled away;
Close to her heart, she held me there
To give a glimpse of life and a touch of care.

She was the one with a hand to lend;
Right from our start, down till her end;

Her love being like the moonlight song,
Turning harsh things to beauty for long;

More than just my friend, my mentor, my guide
I call her “my mum”, and she is my real pride.

But I fear that day,
When ‘my colours’ will turn grey;
No one to hold me high,
Deep inside a silent cry.

No matter what, she will always be in my heart,
In every memory and never far apart.

Cause she is the only one and we all call her our mother
Like whom, you’ll find no other!