My Mother’s Gentle Hands

My Mother used to comb my long hair.
When she hit a tangle I would cry out
in pain.

She would place her gentle hands
upon my head and whisper, “I’m sorry
darling but you must endure the
pain so that your hair will be shiny
and beautiful.”

When my life hits a tangle I long for
my Mother’s gentle hands to ease
the pain.

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