Mother

My mother says that I am beautiful,
but what was that which i saw yesterday.
That can be anything but beautiful.

Now I know that all these years I was fooling her,
with deception and alacrity,
making her believe that I am the best.

But only one person knows the truth.
I can look into the mirror but not into her eyes,
because I can get mirrors which can make me look better,
but not those eyes which waited in anticipation and hope
to see how would I look like when I enter into this world.

Those eyes are the first to have lost the world for me,
and I can't afford to make them loose more.

I have decided, I will tell her everything,
because only then will I be patient.
Afterall she is my mother.

Then, I wake up with a jerk to see my mother's hands on my forehead
and I indeed felt that I am beautiful.