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.
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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.
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Dr. Kishore R. Nikam
Thu 4th Jun 2020 05:29
Superb