It's very weird that i never wrote of her,
by Eman Awad
even though i've wrote of every one i know.
It's just that there is some thing about her,
that can't be written, that can't be but to glow.
Maybe i was tired of all the talk,
about how your mom can be essential in your life.
And how you adore her cooking and her walk,
and her face and do nothing but to admire her strife.
She's all that but she's more than essential for me,
i found out that i worship her and she's my life...
I'm just trying to find new words,
but those words about her loving womb which's dark.
And how can i tell if it's dark, i was in other worlds,
but i can tell of how safe i'm in her arms and near her heart.
She stood by me when i was hurt,
she took me in and wiped my tears.
My mommy, what a simple word,
but i simply love her more through years.
I know that once i felt so insecure,
she made the world seem like the safest place.
How much i love her, i'm not so sure,
beyond infinity, and i adore the smile on her face.
Mommy, i just want to say i love you,
and thanks for being my mom and all.
But how can i be grateful enough for you,
you, who gave me a part of your soul.
You're my parents, you're all the family,
yes, you've been also a father to me some times.
Mommy if i kept on writing, i'll, endlessly,
and all of my love words will all seem to rhyme.
I just want to thank you for one thing,
except being there for me forever and for always.
You're my reverie of an angel sing,
a song of how you make me complete all the days.
Though we both know, mommy,
i'm lost for every thing but with you i'm not.
You're every thing to me, my mommy,
yes, through it all, you're all i've got...