The life of a woman

Battered and bruised

The life of my mother,

Too often used.

A life only lived

Halfway to the full.

A woman defeated

By lethargy’s pull.

But the job she has done

In raising her sons

To shape the men

That we have become.

It must be respected,

Full credit is due,

For a lesser person

Would not have pulled through

So thankyou Mum

I truly am proud

To be your son.




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