My Mother: An Ace
One day the light went out
My mother lit a candle and gave it to me.
Its flames flickered as I studied
I thought with my head buried
In the books
That mother always cooks
But eats the less of all
And never fails to miss even a single call,
From her husband, daughter or son,
Is up before the first ray of the sun,
Reaches the Earth,
Has been working since birth,
She has sacrificed almost everything in life,
Just to become a good mother and a great wife.
But just as the candle's flames,
Listens to everything without complains,
And just like ...