Mother is more a savior.

My son's sin, I forgive, ignore or hide.
Sins he did to me dissolves in my eyes
At the sight of his growth and welfare.
I punish him not, nor want others to.

I have no grief that I was deserted
By my son on whom I had spun my hope.
I do have grief that who would be there
After my death, to nurse him when he weeps over the wrongs done to me, his mother.
10.0.2006




Poetry by Shanmugam
Read 819 times
Written on 2008-09-12 at 12:40

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