There is one thing you taught me from a young age,
To look past mistakes to see the people that are hurting.

You  built this house, your temple,
On an unconditional type of love.
Growing up with you was like walking through libraries of people with stories to tell.
And you, painting mosaics of understanding around me.
Mother.
Always crafting the world beneath your hands,
Like Gippedo in his workshop
Breathing life into things people never gave a chance to. Continue reading →