Love is a gentle sweet word that’s hardly ever heard.

Love is warm and kind.

It’s something everyone wants to say

“It’s mine”

When you try to compare words, a mother’s is no comparison.

There is no better word.

A mother’s love is warm, her love is kind, her love is with her

Children all the time.

A fathers love is a mystery

I wonder if his heart holds any kind of key

To people he’s a red rose

Just like a rose when the puddles fall who knows where he goes?

I know my father never cared for me, just like a tree I may be

Half of me turns brown and bitter, the other half of me just says

That’s the way it’s supposed to be.

So you see,

Half my life is full of mystery and the other half my mother holds the key.