Yes,

I haven’t been prepared.

To bear.

The Lonely world of mothers.

The worlds where I give up each of myself,

While trying to hold on some.

But then, when I get to see,

The loveliest, the loveliest,

If I may repeat word in poems,

The loveliest, smile drawn in my children.

They ignite the fire in my core.

The very soul of God planted in me, burn.

And then it sweeps my feet,

And I fall in love again, each time, in the way I never had.