A poem by Alexander Knight
for his mother
Feeling pains of growing world --
the nothings that pain more --
She feels me whether near or far,
And holds me to her.
Her warmth's what heats my veins,
Her will holds up my weight;
What smiles me when I climb high,
She's proud of me always.
She holds my love inside her heart,
She made my walls and chambers --
With Mortar blood and tears --
My ribs -- her arms -- protecting,
Ever holding, ever loving.
Thru nothing pains,
I close my eyes and --
Mother.
Mother.
I know she knows --
I love her.
I love her.
2 comments:
THAT my friend is a wonderful poem.
I was pretty much stunned...
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