Mother Poem by Omiat Kings

The mother who works
the mother who shops
the mother who feeds
the mother who mops

Who tells me one day
that I'll be a king
who bought me a piano
and taught me to play swing

Who says be free
but I stay at her feet
who says I am strong
but without her I'm weak

I stand strong because
of her compassion
she's the reason I walk
in a mannerly fashion

I look at the sea of women
and no that there is no other
who will care for me
as much as my mother