Writers 
She never wore a cape or looked for the light,
Through all darknesses carried me.
Her love, a softness when I needed it most,
A still voice when my hope was failed.
There was no cheering for all the tears that she had wiped away,
No medal for the all nighters she cried out.
She left her dreams for me to pursue my own.
In silence I constructed a throne that I never knew.
If I fell down she fixed it,
A silent strength that I knew to always rely on.
Her few words will I see in her eyes,
A sea of faith for me alone.
She was the still waters in all turbulent seas,
The soft hands that held me in their warm embrace.
While others cheered for what I came to be,
She was the tree's very root!
Now I stand tall for she kneeled in prayer,
Her silent love, is the key to despair.
Not a single hero's name is scratched on a wall,
However, her reflection is in me all.
For each step I take, she paved the way,
Her lips are tight and her voice remains silent.
My Mother, my Hero, always faithful,
You don't know, but I knew.