Comments about Santosh Chhetry
She cries in every bit of my hurt,
Flourishes my way self walking through dirt.
Except her none can take my bother,
Heaven is there where is my MOTHER.
An ocean is there of love in her eyes,
She feels the tears if her son cries.
Tender her hands which roses cant compare, To nurture the greatest son Mother Mary was there.
She was there to feel first beat of my heart,
Guided my blood through vein as to an infant bird.
New birth she takes with the birth of my cry,
Absence of her can make world dry.
In the hands of her care life rejoice, ...