Son and the working mother

His moist pink lips do not speak,
his eyes burst out of his lids to seek
where and why his mother went
leaving him and his tantrums for a day to spend.

The working mother does tear his heart
when she leaves for the day away and apart.
His reaching palm look gloomy and sweet
as she walks past the gate and down to the street.

His grandma picks him and rests him still
by her tired hips and his emotions spill.
She caresses the sad one for quite some time,
she sings him songs in which the verses rhyme.

A day would pass with toys and games.
He would burst out often and become untamed.
Grandma knows to calm his fears
as he waits for his mother with held up tears.

And the day would turn out to a dreamy night,
the mother would come back to make him all right.
Now he doesn’t even care about her beloved return
it is time for the mother to worry about him in turn.

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