She is the clay that molded me.

A soul's travel that passed down from mother to daughter.

What is bad and what is good,

What depends and flows within the gray,

Values embedded in DNA.

The sympathy behind my eyes,

All because of her.

When music plays,

I stop and blend in its many colors.

I recall those nights nestled in my blankets, 

Enjoying those moments between the click-clacking of plastic CD cases. 

The songs that I didn't know where they started and where they ended,

But they were Moma's songs.

They were special.

Her tough skin.

Her soft heart.

A heavy contrast,

It taught me to be strong.

When life gets hard you take a deep breath. 

You hold your ground until you can flourish.

She carried me in her arms,

Gave me visions of starlight, 

Couldn't have been so easy all on her own.

Had to tuck away the pain,

Turn on Elmo,

Pour me some cheerios. 

Putting on a smile like it didn't matter.

Couldn't trust that man who just threw cash for some little pink Nikes.

He wasn't there. 

He didn't bother. 

Had to have the strength to be my pillar.

Had to have the love to raise a daughter.

She is the clay that molded me.

She is the woman I aspire to be.