My Mum

by Daisy W aged 11

This poem,
this little rhyme,
this tiny ditty,
is not about a crush
or a partner.
But my Mother.

You see,
she means sooooo much to me,
the way she calls me Pumpkin
or her little baby (although I am eleven)
The way she’s always up for a cuddle
or the way she strokes my hair.

Because our mums are our true love.
They will always and forever
surpass these boys and men.

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