A tiny cough, a runny nose,
is where it all begins.
One by one, you all go down,
The sickness finally wins.
Your body hurts, and so does theirs,
tissues fill the floor.
And just as you sit on the couch
You’re needed just once more.
So up you jump to wipe a nose.
A cup of tea is made.
You help another into bed,
where the sheets had just been changed.
You’ve heard your name a thousand times,
and you can’t remember where
you put that tea to soothe your throat,
or when you last sat in a chair.
A mother isn’t perfect,
she bends and sometimes breaks.
But there’s a strength inside of her
like a lioness that wakes.
If you ask her how she does it
she probably doesn’t know.
There’s no cape kept in her closet,
no awards for her to show.
However, I assure you,
any army would agree—
if they could bottle up her strength,
every enemy would flee.
You see, it’s not the “how it’s done”
that makes her who she is.
It’s always been the “Why?”
And the answer is…”My kids.”
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page
by Her View From Home 
by HVFH Contributor 
