Mothers are taken for granted

Many times we do not see

She may be sick and downhearted

We only think me, just me!

We bother her with trifles

So a book she has no time to read

Ask silly questions for her to answer

Like when is? will you? or I need.

From wagons to dolls to zippers

She can fix them every one

When she's finished she hands them over

For Here's some more since you're done.

Though at times we're selfish and thoughtless

Our love for her stays the same

We'd gladly come home with a black eye

If someone called her a name.

So somtimes when you feel there's no hope, Mom,

Read my poem and think of me, too

There's just one thing I want to tell you

Thanks, Mom - I'll always love you!