A mother’s gift
The marks on my face hide their own stories.
Some are happy, some steeped in worries.
You, my Heart, beat out of my ageing cage.
Write your story my child, turn a new page.
Comments
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
The marks on my face hide their own stories.
Some are happy, some steeped in worries.
You, my Heart, beat out of my ageing cage.
Write your story my child, turn a new page.
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
Dr. Kishore R. Nikam
Thu 4th Jun 2020 05:29
Superb