An Ode to My Mother
I ran away that morning,
when my mother told me
we had to leave our home.
I hid among the bushes
and flows of teardrops
trickled down my flushed cheeks.
My mother found me,
but she did not clenched her fists
nor blazed with anger.
Like a gentle breeze
she touched my cheek.
I looked up at her and saw
her wrinkles deepened within these days,
and her eyes were coated with sadness.
We sat among the bushes in silence,
listening to birds humming their blues
and trees wailing in pain.
Mother broke the silence,
singing the song that I dearly loved.
Cracks in our gloomy atmosphere started to form,
and as the song came to an end,
the grey cover burst open
and the singing of the sorrowful songs
I hugged my mother,
and the presence of love lavished
of the bushes we sat among.
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