She cried... eyes throbbing,
pain, relentlessly tugging at her heart.
Her smile, no longer placed on her face,
but still in heart.
She swallowed hard.
A billion thought and apologies raced through her mind.
My Child, I have raised you well.
I am proud of you.
Yet I am nevertheless distressed.
I have not provided you with enough.
You work harder than your friends
to obey me and accept who you are
and what you have.
Although my heart aches
everytime I think of what you have given up at such an age...
My Child, I am proud of you.
A million kisses and thousand thank you's...