The world that you
ushered me in,
Is impeccably amazing,
Yet I could not show
you.
The love that you
shower upon me
Is literally
dimensionless
Yet I could feel it.
The light that you
illuminate on my mundane life,
Is visibly
unflinching,
Yet I could not
reflect it.
The lens with which
you showed me the world,
Is feasibly clear,
Yet I could not
magnify for you.
The legs that would
swagger for miles,
Is physically feeble,
Yet I could not
provide a settee for it.
The hands that worked
for decades,
Is structurally
emaciated,
Yet I could not
provide a lap for it to rest upon.
The life that you
endure with the pain inflicted,
Is morally
unthinkable,
Yet I could not
relieve you of it.
The merits of
endurance that you have accumulated,
Is numerically
countless,
Yet the rewards were
of absolute contradiction.
The seldom uttered
words of yours,
Is nothing but
soothing,
Yet responses were
snarls of rage.
Nevertheless, my
beloved mother, you are audacious enough
To stroll on the path
of thorns,
And patient enough to
wait for my arrival,
Who would eradicate
the agony of your unrequited love.
Nice one, Tashi.
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