My Dearest Mother, My Closest Friend,

I’m here to speak a truth, raw and unrefined,
From the depths of my heart, a monologue designed.
A melody woven with threads of “sorry” and “thank you,”
For in your wisdom and folly, you knew what you knew.

You navigated the unknown with courage,
And for that, my heart swells with gratitude.
You knew the warmth of love, the strength of a gentle touch,
The kind of wealth that money can’t clutch.

In the laughter echoing through our humble abode,
Is the lessons taught, in the stories told.

Thank you for the wisdom wrapped in bedtime tales,
For the courage instilled when my own bravery pales.
For the sacrifices made in the silence of night,
For the dreams you fostered, encouraging flight.

Sorry for the times I didn’t understand,
When my youthful eyes saw only what they wished,
Blind to the silent sacrifices, the quiet strength,
You bore the weight of dreams and hopes, a burden both heavy and light.

Thank you for the gifts that money couldn’t buy,
The laughter shared in moments simple and pure,
The lessons taught with patience as your guide,
The love that wrapped around me, steady and sure.

Sorry, too, for the times I didn’t see,
The struggles you faced just to let us be free.
The nights you stayed up, worries etched on your brow,
The dreams you deferred to provide for us somehow.

Now as an adult, the veil has lifted, I get it
I see the balance of life, constantly shifted.

Wishful for things that money couldn’t buy,
Yet grateful for the attempts, the never-ending try.
The complex dance of right and wrong,
The stumbles and the triumphs,
I, too, will get it right and get it wrong,
But always, we will strive, just like you.

I stand on your shoulders, seeing further than before,
Understanding now, life is a revolving door.

I’ll get it right, then wrong, then right again,
In this cycle of learning, the legacy remains.
You wished for the things beyond wealth’s reach,
Yet you tried, oh how you tried,
With every heartbeat, every breath,
To give me a world where I could stand tall.

So here’s my promise, my solemn vow,
To learn from the past, to hold dear the now.
To thank you for your love, relentless and true,
And to say I’m sorry for the times I never knew.
For in the end, it’s not perfection we seek,
But the grace to rise again,
To learn, to grow, to love,
And in that journey, I carry your legacy,
A beacon of hope, a testament to all you are.

My Dearest Mother, My Closest Friend

Sorry and Thank you,
For everything you are and everything you tried to be,
We are forever grateful,
For you taught us the true meaning of love,
A love that money could never buy.

Love Aicha [eye-sha]

Scribbled Scripts Starts Stories is a unique blend of soulful, self-reflection, packed into storytelling that will transform your life from the inside-out