I run through a field of green                                               
And muster in the pollution
I’m young,
Blonde hair flapping through the wind
Eyes big and bold,
And ready for adventure
My tiny chubby fingers,
Interlocked with my mother’s.
She holds me close,
And whispers,
You are perfect.

I grow,
And grow
Yet she still is my constant
She assures that I’m her everything
Through my terrible two’s
To my troubling teens
She helped me grow
And no matter what,
No matter the flaw,
That I had overall,
She said,
I was perfect.

I am,
Who I am
I be who I need to be
But yet she still sees
The little girl in me.
She shows me the light,
Even when everything falls apart
You are perfect,
Is a constant echo I hear.