My mother’s eyes.

Sometimes I look and swear I see,

My mother looking back at me.

Sometimes I sit and wonder why,

You care for me then walk on by.

It’s easy just to stop and stare,

But do you really, really care?

What do you do when you are free?

Do you ever – think of me?

Do you ever peer inside?

What do you see, where do you hide?

My heart is open, clean and true,

My eyes are clear, bright and blue.

I see that look, I feel those lies,

I’m looking through my mother’s eyes.

Now I know what I must do,

Choose myself- instead of you.

Sometimes I look and swear I see,

My mother looking back at me.