As a green
bride on a Sunday morn
Walking down
the aisle
Beside our
fathers, so cheerful and bright
By Monday dawn
the gown is gone
Replaced by
brown overalls and aprons
With
innocence forever lost
Facing
marriage life and its real cost
Tuesday
comes on mothers suddenly
In the
labor ward bawling and bleeding badly
Pushing out
cute babies painfully
Yet they will
repeat the entire process gladly
Which they are constantly cherishing, feeding and
nursing
Juggling
all these with house chores pressing happily
Indeed
mothers are God's blessing
Thursday
when they take us to school
So we can
grow well and become cool
We really
cannot figure out what to do
And so cry
as they leave because of school rules
But by
Friday when we stand tall
And despise
their midnight tears
Though they waited for our glory many years
Saturday
might mean rest for you
Since you
are left with nothing much to do
But what
mothers do, you have no clue
The golden dress
you wear to impress
On Sunday
morn for pulpit address
They do first
check, wash and press
But inspite of all this, some care for their mothers less
So if you
meet Mother's day on a Sunday morn
Though your
mother might be
Treat her like it's her birthday
Give her
love and wish her happy mother's day
For
whatever she is now
It is
because she been shedding her colors of love for you
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