If only we knew,
The weight relived by the clouds,
After the rain,
Belonged to the Earth, borrowed for a day.
If only we knew,
How the Lotus never,
Absorbs a drop of water,
That flows in the lake.
If only we knew,
A mother never complains,
About her pains and aches,
But worked her way out of the day.
If only we knew,
A poet swims into your pain,
Owns it and drowns, not in vain,
She returns with words, that flows this way.
We would never judge or criticize,
A poet rhyming, YOUR joy and pain,
Like her own,
Tricking the world, with her ink pen.
-Natalya Ludwick-
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