Quickly come near the corridor,

There is much to hear than see.

An infant sighing for his mother is away.

More babies are screeching since they can’t feel their feet.

 

Having a child is instantly frightening,

But the real trouble begins after the blood.

Most would rather leave than simply stay.

Others chose to ignore the sirens that continuously blazed.

However, there is no use in crying or venting for there is much to do.

Feel the little heart beat,

It is quivers only for you.

Don’t sulk like a lonely coward in the battlefield.

Take your child since it is only two against the world.

Make every step worth keeping near the crib.

A son is important like his mother his to him.

Blue skies wink on the trees to grow.

Water bathes a rainbow to form.

 

Tears underestimates the rain.

A small connection can be attained.

Mainly, for a minute or day at least.

It was there, not caring how insignificant it is.

Relations of mother and son or daughter can not cease to fail.

Flowers bloom until they wither but their roots still remain.

Childish antics are recalled for thorns when blood is splattered.  

Afterwards, the bond strengthens like the mountains amid the storms;

Cherishing the winds for they fuel the knots even more.

Flute pitches calms the mightiest waves of anger.

Meanwhile, a mother’s love stops the heavens from collapsing.

 

Tickets for a bus is easily to conjure.

Compared to hiding, standing still plucks fear into the mind.

In contrast, one will rue to not take the honorable path years ago.

Scouting is not the same as finding for there is no emotion to survive.

If such happiness is still scattered, there will be crumbs of regret caught on the dress.

Soon, guilt will eat off your skin,

since it mistakes mourning with living after time passes by.

Difficult autumn harvest rests under the golden skin splashed with sweat.

Sneezes to cough reminds one that there is minutes to spare.

A baby needs more than sour syrup.

Become the melody that harmonizes the breaths into a lullaby.