Wednesday, 27 January 2016


Your Mother is always with you. She’s the whisper of the leaves as
you walk down the street, she’s the smell of bleach in your freshly
laundered socks she’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not
well. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she’s crystallized in
every teardrop. She’s the place you came from, your first home; and
she’s the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first
love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate
you.. Not time, not space…not even death.