Mother Daughter Poem

Thank My Mom For Always Being There

I wrote this poem to thank my mom for always being there. I was born a premature twin and we nearly died. Life has taken me down some hard roads I thought I would never find my way out of. Through it all my mom has always been my rock.

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This poem really touched my heart, because I was born 25 weeks early. I weighed one pound and …

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© Margaret Rivera more by Margaret Rivera

Published: Apr 2009

My Mother's Hands

She's so small, is she ready?,
To enter this world with a heart so tiny,
She takes a breath, her cry so low,
Her mom grabs her close, now she starts to glow,
Mom takes her home to a nursery of love,
She believes she's her little angel from high above,
She continues to hold her oh so tight,
The beats of her heart, she continues to fight,
Because her mother's strong love gives and brings,
The strength to her little mended wings.

Here we go the first day of school,
Mom's not ready, but knows she's a fool,
Because she has waited for this day oh for so long,
The hard work she's done, she knows she can't go wrong,
She looks up and says, mom I'm scared please walk me in,
I'm not yet strong,
The tears start to fall, the goodbyes start to sting,
Mom gives her a hug says don't forget,
I'll always be here to mend your wings.

She's grown with hardships wherever she's gone,
Sometimes feeling she's such a worthless one,
Wonders why mom continues to take the time to fight,
When her life is now dark, never in the light,
She knows she can't go on life like this anymore,
Always feeling like there is nothing to live for,
She can't understand why she's always pulling at false strings,
Mom reminds her she's strong, cause from the beginning
she has mended her wings,

Mom then takes her hands and pulls them to her heart and
starts a prayer,
God thank you for her, for I am grateful she is still my daughter,
Please allow her to heal and hear the angels bells ring,
For she can one day realize that mom has always been there to help her spread her mended wings.

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  • by samantha
  • Jul 2009

This poem really touched my heart, because I was born 25 weeks early. I weighed one pound and four ounces. My dad could actually hold me in the palm of his hand. In the human eye I was not suppose to make it, but now 16 years later I'm healthy and alive walking this earth. Knowing that I'm here for a purpose and that it was God who saw me through....

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