I write. You read
I talk. You listen
I build up dreams. You teach me how to fulfill
I have illness. You are my physician
I am wearied. You give me courage
I stumble down. You stretch your arms and hold me up
I merge in a wrong lane. You pull me back to walk straight ahead
I am in the eye of evil storm. You are my earthly shield
I feel oftentimes life's burden. You carry my emotional struggle too
I travel away from home searching my missing disposition. You still wait me even for so long
I have nothing to ask you more. You are my mother
Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bloodline-mother-son-mental-conversation/
