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The Spring Of Tears

The time when she can finally rest
In the arms of death sleeps mother.
Submerged in the Worries of her offspring,
She cries her self pure.

'The kids might need me' she thinks,
Awake is her soul, yet her eyes deceive.

Feeding the children until the hunger is killed,
Many a time, empty stomach, asleep.

Whenever she bears the thought of rejection from them
She cries silently, and prays.

In front of the children, smiles of endless Happiness
At night secretly, weeps.

First she feeds the children,
Then, what ever left she eats.

Now comes the time of hardships for them,
In her coffin, rivers she weeps.

Whenever we return from long travels,
She hugs as though we've been lost

Children mature, independency ' their prize
Mother turns old, dependency - the cost

Those endless nights endured
Those years of nourishment she spent

But how do the children repay her
An insult, aimed to lament

When she turned old
Lifestyle, Care home, mother was banned
Children like water to her
She is like fish on land.

But now she is gone, 'alas',
She sleeps without fear
One visit a month to her grave,
Turns to that of a single year.

When in life we drown - covered in difficulties no source remember another.
When you have no one to fight the worries, Remember, you're silently, weeping, mother.