The Warmth Of The Invisible Palms.

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Blog Post About This Poem – Please Read This Before Reading This Poem.

Glory to you Almighty, who made me the son of my mom,
Whom you have chosen as the reason,
For me being me and the guide of mine,
Those chosen words of wisdom,
Those little punishments,
That made a heaven on earth,
When dreams were made about life ahead,
Those sunny summer days I remember,
Flying kites and playing seven tiles,
Those moments of bitterness,
Those silly frustrations,
And at the end of the day,
The warm pat from those palms,
Erasing bitterness and frustration,
In the greatness of Motherhood Perfected by my mom,
And in those warm palms I slept,
Weaving another dream about life ahead.
Those days are gone I thought,
Those sunny days some pages in my memoir,
Far away from those hands,
The bigger I became,
The bigger the frustrations with life,
Now when another day I kill away,
With frustrations that blinds,
When sun gives no light and warmth to the life freezing
When wind blows with furry,
That blows my dreams away like a flurry,
Into the warmth of those invisible palms I lie,
And a new dream for the ‘morrows I weave.

©LonelyPoet. From the Book Age Of Survival – Collection Of Poems By LonelyPoet -2006.

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