A Heart Which Beats.

A heart which beats,

Often cries,

Not for the lost things,

But for the things which it has got.

A heart which beats,

Is like a blank slate,

Runs to fill the blankness up,

With happiness,

With love,

And glee.

But still it beats,

As the heart beats,

It beats for all things natural,

But nothing can compare a mother’s love,

For her child.

It’s only for the child,

For whom, the mother’s heart beats.


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