She’s a doe to her calf,
A queen to her larva,
An ewe to her lamb,
The mare that protects her colt until dawn.
Her words are filled with honey;
Beckoning to her child’s every move,
Like the lioness she is;
And the cubs we claimed to be.
Although, I dwelled in her;
For nine months,
I feel disconnected,
And miss her so dearly.
She’s a wife to her man;
And a hero to her babies,
She held my hand;
and helped me walk,
When I couldn’t talk.
If she went extinct;
Then, there will be no us,
No we; no womb for reproduction;
Just a space body orbiting without beings.
She’s a queen without a crown,
A goddess without worshipers,
An idol with many talents,
A mentor that never lacks advice,
But most of all;
She’s the greatest being ever created,
She’s a mother - my mother.
Hoping you love wet poetry
YOU ARE READING
Wet poetry
PoetryPoetries of love, Romance, Depression, life, joy, hatred, anger, death...all in one. Words on paper that struck my heart with emotions... allowing tears to drop...like rain from above... making my cheeks soak from tears...with an inevited need...
