lonely mother

She sits on her rocking chair
peeking out the window, looking at the kids playing
remembering her own

She thinks back to toasting bread
clearing up after them,
singing lullabies, reciting stories before every bedtime

Listening closely she can still hear the tapping of little feet,
laughter echoing through out the living room
Her eyes redden as the tears come falling down
All of her mothering seems to be in vain.

Grown daughters and sons are way too busy now
with their lives, careers and families
Too busy to visit, send cards, or pick up the phone

Her tender heart breaking as she roll the chair away
All of their needs put first and her needs put aside
As with all mothers in the world, their well being are still in her mind
Even when her end approach

Anonymous

 

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Chin Hock (Holdinghands in the Media)
Founder of Holdinghands and Filial Piety Award Recipient 2013