But with a nexus to our mom.
That nexus man’s tool severs,
But never doth it, the seemingly apparent
relationship.
As time flits by, moms recede and friends
proceed
Into our lives, some firm, and some for
benefit.
The latter induce tears, as flattery so
often does,
Who sheds them not?
Shed them alone, you remain forlorn,
Shed them on a shoulder, you emerge
stronger.
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