Wherever I go I hear your secret footsteps Mom
And I want you to tell something eagerly about my plight,
Like the olden days of your precious lullabies.
But I found myself totally dumb
Anyway I hear your mild footsteps and I follow your way Mom!
*Whenever I think of you Mom I feel like burning and I know you give me teardrops to survive.
*Whenever I think of you Mom I feel like burning and I know you give me a teardropp to survive. <
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Her solace is always with you. A lovely, poignant write. Always your friend, Sandra