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If I were a mom,
I’d cradle love and care, even as the world weighs heavy in
Braving storms of fear and worry, I'd hold steady.
I wouldn’t call my child lazy when they’re drowning in their mind.
No, the word selfish would never leave my lips,
Only understanding, soft with kisses.

If I were a mom, I’d feel my child's cold silence,
The way I wish someone had felt mine.
And if they ever wandered off the path, lost in the dark,
I’d ache, yes—but never lose hope.

Through thick and thin, bad and worse,
In moments of despair and dreams half-broken,
I’d stand with them, an anchor in their storm.
Their untidy room wouldn’t be a mark of shame,
But a sign of helplessness—and I would be see a chance to mend.

If only I were a mom,
I'd be the love I never knew I needed.

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