My first love, Mother

a poem by Rohit Verma

SHE
She’s my first love
From whom I can never be apart
She’s the one who’ll remain forever in my heart,
But let me tell you who’s SHE before I start.

SHE’s my mother
Who have never compared me with others,
She’s my mother
Who loves me more than my little brother.

But is she just a housewife
Who is only for cutting vegetables.
Does she not work hard
Like men do?

My father says she only cooks,
But she also take care of my books.
She gets up at 5 AM in the morning,
She protects me by a lovely warning.

When she’s too angry
She starts to cry,
Then tell me how can I keep my eyes dry.

One time
I had fallen from the stairs,
She was the only one who picked me up.
On that day she had not eaten even a bit of bread,
Because my head was stiched.

On the next day I was in a little bit of confusion,
That why she remained hungry for me,
Is her life is not more valuable than mine.

I know how that blanket
Comes above me from its place every night
Her heart is the one where I have a reserved space.

Her ten missed calls
Twenty texts
Sometime irritated me
But when the doctor is not there she was there who aided me

At last I just want to say
For her I have millions of prayers
She should live longer than I stay
She remains happy from June To May…