Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
We met under a tree,
It was just him and me.
We held our palms and strolled on,
Told our stories to the birds’ call.

I saw him as my valentine,
But was curious to know if he was only mine.
It seemed to be reality,
But sadly, my fate had failed me.

When I realised it was just a dream,
My cries were that of a stream.
Would I get a man just like whom I had met?
Would I get the love just like what I had felt?
“True love isn’t a myth but it is hard to find”
‘Mother’ the most beautiful word in the world,
Given to that lady who is ever so hardworking.
She who shows the faith and determination,
To provide her child with a good upbringing.

By her side is her Husband,
Whose presence is indeed mandatory.
The man whose absence may cause,
A rift in the mother’s story.

Gradually, a new generation is born,
Destined to write the future’s song.
Don’t misunderstand them to be alone,
For they have their parents walking along.

In their childhood,
They are loved for their cuteness and mischief.
When they grow older,
They repay their parents with a life of relief.

They are those,
who don’t distinguish themselves as you and me.
They are the ones,
Who define a FAMILY.

— The End —