I often go walking in meadows of clover,
And I gather armfuls of blossoms of blue.
I gather the blossoms the whole meadow over,
Dear Mother, all flowers remind me of you.
Oh Mother, I give you my love with each flower
To give forth sweet fragrance a whole lifetime through
For if I love blossoms and meadows and walking,
I learn how to love them, dear Mother, from you
YO MOTHA'
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2 comments:
We do learn how to love from our mother. This song speaks truth. I used to have much love my mother. She was my favorite person. But then she got old and watching her fade away became too painful so I cut off my feelings for her to protect myself. So now I feel nothing for her
Wow. You are a cold hearted dude. Your own little mother. The lady who gave you life. The lady you told you wanted twat flavored ice cream in front of all your friends and she didn't beat your ass but instead said "oh aaron."
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