Always like this for me,
I do not know why.
If I cry, is it wrong?
But I know, joy brings tears too,
Once it was said,
"There is no shame in tears"
If I cry, I will not hide it.

The memories are strong,
I just can't stop thinking of her.
The finest of all the women I know,
My mother, my friend.
Inside my heart, there is a little box,
A little box of memories I created,
For a dear beloved soul,
My closet pal.

Though gone,
Her memory liveth in me.
How can I forget,
All the tender care she gave,
The struggle to give us the best.
The dead indeed knows nothing,
The living can tell of their love.
Sleep on dear mother,
Your works speaks forever.