Poetry is like air to me...It is the blood in my veins...
</>She taught me the wisdom of acceptance
(could never understand why)
She also told me to fix the things
(I was never able to do that)
Whether I failed or not
Whether I learnt what I had to or not
I don't know.
She said courage and humbleness were important
if I wanted to be a decent human being.
(I swear I tried to do my best to fulfill destiny)
I simply go on in spite of all:
Certainties, truths, opinions matter little now.
She couldn't give me what she didn't have
or what she wasn't taught to have or seek for.
She gave me her unconditional love
and respect when I made my uncountable mistakes.
She gave me her blood when I needed.
She gave me what nobody will ever give me: autonomy to be myself.
For my mother.