My mama steps out of her dress
and drops it, an inheritance falling to my feet.
She stands alone: bathed, blooming,
burdened with nothing of this world.
Her body is naked and beautiful,
her wings gray and scorched,
her brown eyes piercing the brown of mine.
I watch her departure, her flapping wings:
She doesn’t look back, not even once,
not even to whisper my name

There was no manifestation of contemporary culture that did not indicate to my grandmother how steadfast was the nation’s decline, how merciless our mental and moral deterioration, how swiftly all-embracing our final decadence. I never saw her read a book again; but she referred to books often – as if they were shrines and cathedrals of learning that television had plundered and then abandoned.

I believe when i was born, i did not choose my family. but i also believe they are special gift of God for me so let’s be kind, be honest and love them unconditionally, i also know in every family there are or there will some problems happen which the members of the family stop communicating with each but let’s remember that pure love among the family member will be always there, Let’s love our family, be honest and respect them and try to do our best to put smile on their face but not by hurting others.

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