Mothers

Surrounded by daughters and sons

The sound of crying babies and lullabies

Mothers have no holidays

Mothers

Surrounded by chores and the world

The dishwasher sings and beds get laid

And the foods don’t cook themselves

Mothers have no holidays

Mothers

Surrounded by needy husbands and flirts

Men always come calling, ogling and begging

A woman is just a thing to have they think

A wife never graduates from being sought after

Mothers have no holidays

Mothers

Surrounded by dreams and passions unmet

Her heart beats for new songs and a music band

Servers of her will forever fail to come early to work

Hearers of her soul vibes often too deaf to comprehend

Everyone but you and me know a mother is a god

Mothers have no holidays

I dedicated this poem to my baby (wife) and baby-mama (mother of our babies) Destiny Lukia.