Written by Juanita Smith |
Published on:

Mama is such a treasure,
Mama, that is the way you are.
The apple of my eye. 
The reason I don't cry.

A precious golden star
Without a single mar
You brighten my dark nights
You eliminate all my frights

The shoulder I knew would be there for me to weep on
The Angel that will never be gone
Even when I don't win the gold
You would patiently listen as my story is told

I remember when I fell during a race
If it hadn't been your grace
I would have fallen again 
But you ended my pain

Forget about the rest
Just do your best 
You said every day 
This stopped me from going astray

Copyright ©

Form of Poetry


Author: Juanita Smith
I'm Juanita but everyone calls me Juan, which is pronounced like the first number- one. And yes I am always at the top. I think writing is cool and I joined this website to better myself for my future career. I like ice cream and I'm only 14 and close to overweight (I don't know why I added that last part.)


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