Wherever I go I hear your secret footsteps Mom
And I want you to tell something eagerly about my plight,
Like the olden days of your precious lullabies.
But I found myself totally dumb
...
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*Whenever I think of you Mom I feel like burning and I know you give me a teardropp to survive. <
Her solace is always with you. A lovely, poignant write. Always your friend, Sandra