Ma, I made a poem
about you.
It might not be
as beautiful as you are,
but I hope
this shows
how much I love you.

Words couldn’t explain
the light you gave
ever since I first
saw the world.

For you’re a poetry,
a bright moon to the
falling eyes.
A paragraph that has
no definite end,
rhyming with every
cries of your child.

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