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Mama, Mother

Mom, mother, teacher, friend,

Marvelous in her love to spend

Making everything her kids loved.

Overly concerned with the successes

Of those that are hers,

Often, she sacrifices all at her expenses.

The fear she feels evaporates

Then, turns to a laugh at their cackles,

Yet, twists into tears at their hurts.

Her love is tender, at times harsh,

Her knowing it’s better we hear her lash

Her anger, rather than an outsider becoming brash.

Entirely too much depends on her love,

Every day that passes without it is a dark cave

Encompassing our fright in the depth of cognizance.

Radiate, roving remembrance really

Revolving around her compassionately

Rightful heart, whose endless in its empathy.

By Malakkc

I'm a Canadian whose life has been interesting as I've lived in Developing countries and here. The contrast of law, order, and amenities available to us Canadians (which we take for granted, sometimes) to war torn civil wars is enormous. It leaves an influence upon the soul that cries out for justice. My poetry and writing reflect that and more.

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