Like A Mother
Like a mother
My little daughter
Receives me on the door
And when I am leaving
And when she knows
That I am not taking her out
She says me good bye
She so much understands me
And tries not to hurt me
Some times
She kisses my face
And my hands
When she sits on my legs
And when I feel tired
And chocolates and toffees
She demands
Her little talk
Like beauty transient
Is becoming history
To return only
In memories rich
My little daughter
She is learning
To be a mother
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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