POEM: My mom is a tree
MY TREE
A poem for you my dear,
Your purpose is perfectly clear.
To conceive and to believe,
But never ever to deceive.
You cared and raised us all,
To fight and never fall.
I offer you this tree,
Because no doubt this is thee.
As years pass by you grow old,
But all the hardships you endured are still untold.
So I am delighted to be your child,
And that I say you are the best guide.
You who had been always there,
Rest assured we all do care.
The one who helped us prepare,
And thus we will never compare.
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