by Irene C. Allen
I was his Mom for nine whole months,
before she saw his face
I am the Mom who watched my tummy,
rock n roll in in place.
I am the Mom who walked each day,
to keep my body limber
I am the Mom who watched my weight
the one who fed him dinner.
I am the Mom who grew in front,
knowing everyone could see
I am the Mom who gave him life
knowing branded I would be.
I am the Mom who shed my tears,
the day that he was born
I am the Mom who wears the heart
that within my breast was torn.
I am the Mom who let him go,
who thought there was no other way,
I was his Mom,
now it is she
and I thank God for her each day.
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Yes, you are his Mom, but it is our Father's love that you write!