Time is Pain

In a cozy home where laughter bloomed, A mother watched her children, once in their rooms, Four bright stars, each chasing their dreams, With hearts full of hope and ambitious schemes. She nurtured their spirits, she cheered every win, Through scraped knees and heartaches, she held them within, Now they’ve grown tall, with lives of their own, Yet in her heart, a soft ache has grown. She picks up the phone, her fingers a dance, Dialing their numbers, hoping for chance, But silence replies, no voices to hear, Just echoes of memories, and whispers of cheer. “Busy,” they say, as they conquer the day, But busy feels heavy, like clouds turning gray, She texts them her love, her pride wrapped in words, Yet the silence returns, like a flock of lost birds. Did she do something wrong? A question that stings, As she sifts through the moments, the joy that it brings, She recalls all the laughter, the stories they spun, But now it feels lonely, like a race never run. Her heart feels abandoned, a garden unkept, Where once blooms of love in abundance had leapt, She watches the world through a window of glass, As seasons keep changing, and time rushes past. Yet deep in her heart, she knows they are there, Chasing their dreams, with a love that they share, Though busy and distant, they carry her light, In the shadows of life, she’s their guiding sight. So she breathes in the silence, and whispers a prayer, For the love that they share, though it feels rare, For in every success, in each path that they roam, Her heart is their anchor, their forever home. And though the phone rings silent, and texts go unread, She holds them in spirit, in the words left unsaid, For love knows no distance, no time can erase, The bond of a mother, a warm, sweet embrace.