Mother’s love

The feel of a mother’s love: only 20 years later
There is a kind of love only known to the mother, a kind that as much as men can’t concieve they can’t fathom, a spiritual labor pain that reaps the soul apart as the mother sees her child suffer, men don’t know these things but the child without a father does, in a minute way, he sees it in his mother’s eyes but he doesn’t know what to do…

I always laugh at the silly things
I laugh at my feet when I’m alone
I laugh at my mother soon as she leaves for work
Yesterday there was no food on the table
…so I laughed.

My mother is different, she cries for silly things
Once she broke a whole dozen of eggs… she cried
She cried when they fired her at work for being old
Yesterday there was no food on the table
…so she cried.

I laugh only to ease my pain
But pleasure makes me weak
I laugh at someone else’s pain
…even that of my mother’s
But pleasure, …only pleasure makes me weep

What sort of love is this?

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