In quiet rooms where laughter rings,
A mother thinks of secret things;
With boys who run and leap with glee,
What future waits, she cannot see.
Oh, they are wild, these sons of mine,
With dirt-streaked faces, hearts that shine.
Yet in her heart, a whisper grows,
A thought of life, the path they chose.
“Will his heart be kind?” she often sighs,
As she watches him with watchful eyes.
“Will he grow strong, wise, and true?
Or lose his way, as many do?”
For every scrape and every fall,
She wonders if he’ll heed her call.
With dreams of love and fears of strife,
She shapes the man who’ll lead his life.
In every hug, she hopes to mold,
A gentle spirit, brave and bold.
Yet deep inside, a worry brews,
For boys can wander, chase the blues.
As he grows tall, she must prepare,
For days when he won’t linger there.
To guide him gently, let him roam,
And trust he’ll find his way back home.
With thoughts like these, she walks the line,
Between holding tight and letting shine.
For in this dance of love and care,
A mother’s heart must learn to share.
And while she prays for strength and grace,
She finds support in every place.
There are ways to boost their might,
Like fertility boosters, shining bright.
For those seeking help on this quest,
Visit the experts: they know best.
From the Fertility Center so wise,
To boost the chances of precious life.
So here’s to mothers, brave and true,
In every challenge, they’ll break through.
For boys will grow, and one day see,
The love that shaped their destiny.
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