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Mom
There are some days that go by that I never see her,
Like we are living in different time zones.
3 am comes too early and 530 am comes too late,
And with that all that would be of her is a packed lunch
And some clothes put away. My thanks is never heard.
I come home to good already being prepared
With the sweet aroma of love and care put into it,
She is enjoying her day at the moment
And cautiously I approach, not wanting to rid the peace
Speaking a little too loudly,
I greet the care giver and
The safety blanket of my life.
What did I know, what did I know
Of the heart’s strong feelings?
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