The Maid's Kid
The boy saw his mother grubbing on her knees,
Toiling like a mouse to get hold of the cheese.
She works around the house, cleaning all the dishes.
She sacrifices her nights to fulfill her child's wishes.
Panting breath, bearing the pains,
She does her best and never complains.
She believes that they are the drops of gold,
Her honesty and hardwork would never get old.
Seeing his mother in unbearable pain,
'You won't be a maid,' he promised again.
Wiping off her tears, she smiled and replied,
'No work is big or small, if you do it with pride.'
YOU ARE READING
THE PREMISE OF LOVE
PoetryMy Poetry, the art form of the soul, is an exquisite tapestry of language that weaves together emotions, thoughts, and experiences with skillful craftsmanship. It is a captivating expression of the human spirit, transcending time and culture, to tou...
