If I a pencil be,
Mother the eraser I see;
Whatever errors the pencil makes,
She will erase all the mistakes!
Mistakes both great and small,
Tirelessly night and day she toils;
All through the years,
She has shed many a tear!
The wear and tear diminish her size,
Becoming smaller and smaller by my side;
What tribute can I give to repay her love,
Nothing can I do to match her love!
May this short poem live to tell the world,
Thank you MOTHER, I miss you so!


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