a cork board

Heroes (A Mother’s Eyes)
PMpMon, 26 Nov 2012 23:08:13 -040008Monday 1, 2010, 11:08 pm
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Heroes (A Mother’s Eyes)


I see her almost everyday and she’s my hero

I wonder if there’s any way that she could know


Whether there’s water falling from the sky

Or snow stacked so high it’s up to the thigh

She’s always there and she always cares

It doesn’t matter what, but with him she shares


There’s no way for me to

tell if she’s a single mother

But when I see her

I remember growing up with my brother

See, it didn’t matter if my mom had it or not

But she always made sure what we wanted, we got

I see my mother in her

when she steps onto the bus

I see a sentiment

where a child’s happiness is a must


If it’s wet outside

then here he comes in a raincoat

He looks ready to steer his very own boat

And on days when he feels like wearing a hat

I see him at 7am wearing just that


They always walk together hand in hand

And he sits upright next to her like a little man


Today he sat down

and emptied sand from his left shoe

And she gave him a look that read

“I need you”

She ran her fingers through his hair

and over his head

And silently wished

he could have heard what she said


I don’t know where they’re headed

or where their destination ends

And it’s only about 4 or 5 bus stops

that I share with them

But on days like today

I remember them throughout the day

I remember what I silently heard her say


I remember the way she reached into her bag

And pull out 2 slices of bread

wrapped in a plastic bag

The way she carefully folded

the invisible plastic in half

Exposing half of a peanut butter

& jelly sandwich, he laughed


I see it every morning

the way she puts him first

And in remembrance, into tears, I nearly burst


She’s going to work somewhere

and starting her day

And her son is going somewhere

to learn and to play


A mother’s eyes can never tell lies

But they always hold in them

a very pleasant surprise

On any morning that I happen to look up and see

This mother and son step onto the number nineteen

I feel easy and relaxed and I always remember

That day I left my mother four days after December


Single mothers are my heroes

and their son’s saviors

They give and they give

and never ask for favors


I don’t know whether or not

she’s on her own

But she brings these memories

to me like a wind blown


And one day, whether on purpose or not

That boy will become a man

and realize what it is he’s got


A mother who always makes sure

what he wants, he has

And that in life he will never,

ever finish last.