By Ayushi Raghuvanshi
My mother’s love is deep and pure,
But her shouting? Oh, it’s hard to endure!
“Do your chores! Don’t waste your time!”
Her voice could make mountains climb.
She works so hard, her hands never still,
She bends the world to match her will.
But if I laze, even just a tad,
Her words fly faster than a jet pad!
When I’m sick, she’s by my side,
Her concern is something I can’t hide.
She’ll nurse me back with all her care,
But if I miss a step, she’ll be there to glare.
I’m sorry, Mom, for being rude,
I know my anger can ruin the mood.
My issues are tough, they hurt me too,
But I don’t want to hurt you, that’s true.
She dreams for me, a life so grand,
She paints my future with her own hand.
Yet, dear mom, if I may suggest,
A little more peace would suit me best!
You’re the greatest, my rock, my guide,
Even when scolding, you’re on my side.
So here’s my love, wrapped in this rhyme,
Let’s trade some yelling for hugs next time!
By Ayushi Raghuvanshi
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