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What's Mother's Day with Two Mothers, Yet No Say?

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In the shadowed halls of memory's keep,
Where ghosts of yesteryears wail and weep,
A child born under a moonless sky,
Left by one, to the world's cold sigh.

Oh, birth mother, elusive as the dawn,
Your absence echoes, a ceaseless song.
From cradle’s side you turned away,
In pursuit of life's grander play.

Yet, your departure, a paradox unkind,
A bitter gift, to my future assigned.
Your absence a lesson, an education
To love my own, to hold them dear.

My progeny shall never know such strife,
Never question their worth in life.
In your leaving, a lesson won,
Motherhood’s journey has just begun.

Yet, came another, a mother by law,
Her love like winter, beautiful but raw.
In her gaze, I yearned to belong,
Yet within her heart, I was always wrong.

Love, conditional as the shifting tide,

Ebb and flow in a ceaseless slide.
Home, a fortress, yet no sanctuary,
Where belonging felt secondary.

Strangers' eyes held more warmth, more grace,
School, a haven from her cold embrace.
Her love, a labyrinth of despair,
Yet, hope whispered in the midnight air.

Paradoxical, this bond of blood,
Rivers of love turned to flood.
Thrice a mother, I stood tall,
Yet, her silence was the hardest fall.

Reconciliation, a sweet mirage,
A fleeting peace, an illusion's collage.
Yet, once again, the door was closed,
By the grandmother my children chose.

In the theatre of existence, this dark ballet,
What is Mother's Day, with two mothers, yet no say?
A celebration, a bitter jest,
A reminder of life's cruel test.

Yet, from the ashes of these trials,
I rise, bearing love's denials.
With every tear, every sorrowful song,
My spirit resilient, my resolve strong.

Now, as the author of my tale,
I weave love in every detail.
For in my heart, my children find,
A mother's love, forever kind.

A mother's day, a paradox true,
A celebration of what I've been through.
Two mothers I had, yet none could see,
The strength, the love, that grew in me.

In the end, the question stands,
Echoing in life's shifting sands.
What is a mother's day indeed,
But a testament to a heart that bleeds?

Bleeds for love, bleeds for loss,
Pays life's most devastating cost.
Yet, still thrives, still dares to dream,
In the face of life's relentless stream.

Two mothers, yet no mom, I dare say,
A haunting echo on this Mother's Day.
The love I give, the pain I bore,
Unearths a motherhood, pure and raw.

So now, to me, this truth unfolds,
In the labyrinth of sorrow, I break the molds.
A mother's love, within me, resides,
In every tear, every turn of the tides.

Two mothers I had, yet in their stead,
I've become the mother, love widespread.
For in the end, what is Mother's Day,
But a mirror to my love, in every way?

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