Moms have to be,
The bad cop sometimes.
That’s Ma’s job,
Keeping you in line.
Moms are brave,
And, intuitive.
If she suspects something,
Not an inch, she’ll give.
There’s nothing like the sound,
Of her voice when she’s angry.
Like when you left the mess,
For her to clean in the pantry.
And, when she smiles,
Melts your heart with joy.
The times she happily said,
Oh, you good girls and boys!
The times you worried with her,
Through events uncertain.
Having her by your side,
Your bravery’s not deterred.
But, now she’s aged,
Right before your eyes.
Mind’s not as playful,
Little things slip by.
Still, through the years she took,
On all responsibility.
Together, forever bound,
Even though she set you free.