My Mothers Strength

My mother wears her strength like quiet fire,

Not loud or sharp, but steady and true.

She walked through fear with trembling hands,

And still chose to move forward

she always does.

Colon cancer tried to steal her light,

Tried to write an ending she never agreed to.

But she is made of grit and stubborn hope,

Of deep breaths taken on the hardest days.

She learned how to be brave when no one was watching,

How to smile through pain she never deserved.

Every scar is proof she stayed, she fought,

She refused to let darkness have the final word.

She is a survivor

Not just because she lived,

But because she endured,

Because she rose.

My mom is living proof

That strength doesn’t always roar

Sometimes it whispers,

“I’m still here.”

And that is everything. 💙