Mom, My Slave for A Hundred Years


Mom, you refused an epidural and I came out of you like a painful round headed torpedo.
From that point on, I’ve caused you so much trouble and pain.
I got sick as a child, and got you sick.
Then when I had to go to school, you woke up early to help me get ready.
Took me outside to the school bus.
When I came home, you helped me with my homework even though your English wasn’t good.
As I got older, I rebelled. I talked back.
But you never gave up on me.
High school, college and work– my stress becomes your stress.
Even though I’m an adult now, you still see me as a child.
And willingly you’ll be my slave for a 100 years or more.
Where else will I find someone as loving, caring and special as you?
The only person in the world who will do everything for me, for free.
And love me so unconditionally.

I love you too, Mom.

copyrighted poem by

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