She can have only a single word to say but no one can speak to my heart more than my mother.
From a single day of pain to the joy that will never stop until I rest my head, only she has the power to release my anger and halt the tears from falling.
I owe her a great deal from the birth to the keeper of the scars, it gives me a great deal of pain to know I will never give her what she is truly owed from me.
Scars of hurt surround me inside and a slight outside poke here and there, but she kept those scars in her care, until the wounds healed and now only memories remain.
She may be just a mother in your eyes but to me she has been more than words or poems.
Faith and kindness she beams out of her, I pray that when our time is over that she will rest in the kindness of the afterlife.
For she is the scarkeeper and the original pure light.
For my Mum, the woman who sees the good no matter the darkness in the room.