There she goes,the mother of three,
Towering her children like branches of a tree.
She looks to the left and then to the right, Standing on the pavement, ready for the fight.

Her morning starts with the rays of dawn
Struggling to keep up with the clock round.
" Mom, my brush?
Ma, my Bag?
Mama, pooo....!"
Ooooof!.............no rest even for an Achoo!
The kids needs,
Uniforms and tiffins.
Hubby's demand for tie and keys.
In-law's tea, snacks , medicines,
And for her lots of Morphines.

Her hands are coarse, her voice is hoarse
From all the chores and occasional roars.
She wakes at...