Cradles in gentle hands
lovely dearest mom
Bled when pinched, she saves
from slimy sharp thorns
Resting head, she gifts
love wrapped around
My child sleeps,yells 'n' screams
don't make any sound
Scrutiny bridled life she holds
a constant prying gaze
Success is a celebration, a downpour
of unending praise
Labyrinth hazy ghost akin
problems abound
Seeming little she's intense
at hand standing on ground
Tear welled eyes, sore hurt heart,
she stands upright
pain 'n' hurt fly away
when mother is beside.
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- ARPIT GOEL