The Helpless. Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

Whenever a pain disturbed me
I called on you
Whenever a crisis fallen to me
I called on you
When I suffered something sorrowful
I called on you
To get some relief and soothing words
When finally a death came to our home
I cried and wept in silence
Then called on you
Hoping for some mental relief
After a while I adjusted
Knowing well you are not approachable
You are in abode of peace in another world
I knows your love and care
In childhood days you asked me to eat well
To study well, and play well
It was my mother that I still calls.