When mind meets pen and worlds are made,
Her world enriched by labor's salve,
With no prestige or accolade,
A reservoir. A rusted valve.
Exhaustion wrought, her visage grayed,
Alone she sits, her home forlorn.
Come turn of page, despair assuaged,
For children from her heart are born.
Each word within her soul engraved
Gives life immortal, threads unstrung.
A life their own, though paths lay paved,
They venture forth, naive yet young.
Her fears they bear, through deed allayed.
Her strength they bear, a mother's grace.
Regrets undone and debts repaid,
A healthy life in this new place.
Her love they bear, her heart thus saved,
When mind meets pen and worlds are made.
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