My eyes lost their use when we lost your dad.
My legs and arms, they complain about the pain they withstand.
And you know, my son, since you were nine,
Your tears are always mine, but mine are only mine.
Your recklessness was hard, and I cried harder for that.
My eyes may not work but I can see more than you.
If only you were conscious when I used to shower you.
If only you realised I cried in fear for you.
You’d realise the pain of the heart starts here.
The day your mom’s heart split in two,
was the day she realised you’ll forget her
but she won’t ever forget you.