In my line of work, endeavoring pain and living through it has made me a stronger person. Yet, there are times that I fall apart, and loose my balance. Today, although it is my birthday, it is one of those moments that I feel weak and ready to fall, but my little girl has lifted me up with these two pomes.

Perched on an angle’s wing,

Soaring through the sky,

Is a small woman,

With a keen eye,

She helps all she sees,

She works day and night,

Her strong heart and will,

Never falls to cease.

One day she fell,

Of off the angle's wing,

Into the earth,

And yet she still sings.

And yet she still works,

And yet she still loves,

She's full of quirks and perks,

She's as peaceful as a dove.

She is my mother,

graceful and kind,

She's the little bird on my shoulder,

Watching me by and by.

Second Poem

Mozart spilled love onto a piano,

It seeped through the keys,

Picasso dropped love on the floor,

It dripped off corners,

Einstein lost love in the sky,

It soared away to the heavens,

One person, however,

Gathered all that love,

She placed it in a heart,

She filled it to the top,

Then she gave it away,

She gave without pay,

And as other hearts gained,

Hers would refill,

So she kept giving,

Soon her heart started spilling,

It spilled all over the floor,

It seeped through the cracks,

It dripped off corners,

It followed her where she walked,

She pours love, Into other's hearts,

Her love never drains,

Her love never pains,

It surges through her veins,

Yet today is a special day,

It's the love-givers birthday.