No flower is more beautiful
Than one that’s picked from youth
With tiny hands round broken stems
Whispering “Mommy, it for you”

No verse was ever written
That had so much to say
As the folded hearts with scribbles
Reading “Happy Mohes Day”

No words will ever fill my heart
With this happy kind of sad
Encircled with a crayon heart
“Your the best mom I ever had.”

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