A mother who brought him to life,
Showed him the wonders of the world,
She made him take his first steps,
without a sweat.
She said she would be there for him, no matter when.

The mother who woke up early just when the sun rose,
Walked her son to school, remembering the time when 'mom' was his first word.
She kissed him goodbye with happy tears and saw her young dove,
Walk away to a different world.

The mother who would kiss him to sleep would keep the door ajar, to not let the darkness crawl, Letting him know, she won't be far, For she would always be there, no matter where.

The mother who knitted a quilt for her son, waited as the clock struck 12.
She walked to and fro,
But poor mother stayed up until it was 4. Wondering, if he will ever come back for her.

The mother who put in her sweat, day and night to build his walls,
Was being destroyed by her own son.
She wanted no more burdens,
For all that mattered to her was her son.

The mother who raised the son was left alone to fend herself.
She stared at the sun and moon,
Never got to see her son nor heard about his health. She sat in the dark, letting the loneliness accompany as her only friend.

The mother who fought against the world alone to have a son, breathed her last breathe in pure sorrow, Her last words being, her love for her son. And soon her world felt as empty as hollow.

The son who grew up thought he had it all. Happy memories were all he could afford, but only the ones that remained in the past. Family pictures were no longer hung up on the wall, It was just emptiness that remained in the last.

He curled alone on his bed, the dark and strong night thundering its power,
He pulled himself close to the wall, but to vain, his heart rate did not dare go any slower.

The man was still a young boy at heart,
The same little boy who wanted to be comforted when in dark. The same boy who wanted his mother back, but knew that he lost his chance

But for now, he hugged the soft quilt,

For a memory so strong,

was more than enough.