Wherever I go I hear your secret footsteps Mom
And I want you to tell something eagerly about my plight,
Like the olden days of your precious lullabies.
But I found myself totally dumb
Anyway I hear your mild footsteps and I follow your way Mom!

*Whenever I think of you Mom I feel like burning and I know you give me teardrops to survive.

nimal dunuhinga

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-sure-that-fading-figure-is-you-mom/