You are the flower I didn't pick.
       *I simply planted myself next to you,
                *So that at least we can grow together.

I'm no therapist, but i promise you this.
I will listen.
I will care.

i am the book my son reads
and i often wonder what he sees
empty pages filled with the mundane
or a colourful piece of art

does he see my fearlessness
and my backbone made of steel
perhaps the circles under my eyes
betrays me

will he understand that life
is filled with moments that startle you
to heed the call of the world
and every adventure that beckons

i often stare at my reflection and wonder
am i, what he would want aspire to
fervently grasp opportunities and believe
to not settle for mediocrity

each time i boubt myself
i silently promise him
every part of me will strive
to better the next chapter he reads