Random thoughts about my mother

My mother whose eyes were strained By a sadness that stained her eyes My mother who knew No contentment in living My who mother never lived To be even seventy two My mother who love to walk about My mother who was a great dresser My mother who could sing My mother had beautiful handwriting My mother who could never swim My mother who loved to sing My mother who instigated many a conflicts with her numerous friend was left with only a few in the end. My mother whom I so wanted to help evolve My mother who I helped to live My mother who I had to let die My mother who lives in me