A voice

 

A scared voice, to unfold a mystery,

Was weeping with shock for it to occur.

Though saddened, it was a clear victory,

So bright that she was prepared to conquer.

A seed was sprouting with colors above,

As she was forgiven by the figure.

No other matter was vital than her love…

For the seed that was bound to grow bigger.

She sang to it even being hidden.

With nerves, she handled kicks of agony,

Even if it was all of a sudden.

Her tired eyes were waiting patiently. 

‘Till the day welcomed a seed of a boy,

The voice greeted him with some tears of joy.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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