every line
etched on
her face
ever furrow
on her brow
talks of
her hardships
her pain
her struggle
ingrained
a forgotten
mother
martyred
motherhood
misplaced
in vain
silently
she watches
the world go
her fortitude
in place she
begs but wont
grovel for her
misery to the
maker she
wont complain
serene soft spoken
hardly audible to
creaky churning
of her aging brain
humility draws
our attention
it pours
when it rains
