Submitted By: Larem Oniyide

The rain falls on me and I stand there pretending,
fooling the world that it's sweet.

Yet I shiver like the world is going to end people
pass by me and ask "Who's child is this" I call to
them for help but no one comes to my aid.

Suddenly she appears I see a sign of relief on her
face "Oh my daughter" She cries and she hold me up,
covers me with her wrapper, warmth envelopes me she
takes me home, showers me with love and passion of a true mother.
Now I know there's nothing better than having her as my mother.

©Larem Oniyide, August 2002