"professionist" poems
She looks in her eyes,
Seeking the light that never dies,
Even when the shadows rise.
Her face still glows
Like the brightest star is the sky,
Even In the deepest lows,
Gentle as a doe.
Not just a impressionist
Or a perfectionist,
But also a professionist.
Wisdom is wrapped in her tenderness,
Strength disguised as her gentleness.
Full of fire, full of grace,
She walks her path at her own pace.
With contrast in personalities,
we got the similarities.
Cause our heart share the same tides,
And Without any hindrance she guides.
Sometimes a warrior, sometimes a swarm
Yet she always keeps me warm.
Because She is, and always will be,
My super duper mom.
May 15, 2025
May 15, 2025 at 12:58 PM UTC