Mothers are such beautiful creatures,
Whether, you are three or thirty when you fall,
Whether, you are little or your are tall,
They gather you in their arms, hold you close, press your palm,
Whispering ever so gently, ‘no harm can come’,
And I believe her, because the more I fall, the more I am in awe of her,
In awe, of this amazing strength that strongly, silently pulsates in her heart.
Whether, you are three or thirty when you fall,
Whether, you are little or your are tall,
They gather you in their arms, hold you close, press your palm,
Whispering ever so gently, ‘no harm can come’,
And I believe her, because the more I fall, the more I am in awe of her,
In awe, of this amazing strength that strongly, silently pulsates in her heart.
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