By Shristi Shreya
In the quiet morning's light,
When dreams give way to day,
Their love's a gentle, guiding hand,
Leading me along my way.
In laughter's sweet, infectious sound,
And in the tears we share,
Their love is like a steadfast flame,
Warming hearts with tender care.
Through whispered words and silent hugs, In every sacrifice,
Their love's a boundless, endless sea,
So deep, it knows no price.
In moments small, and grand displays,
Their love's a constant guide,
A beacon in the darkest night,
A shelter where I can confide.
With every smile and stern command,
Each lesson that they teach,
Their love is woven into me,
Within my soul, it reaches.
Through all of life's uncertain paths,
Their love remains my stay,
A compass true, a North Star bright,
Guiding me through night and day.
So here’s to parents, hearts so full, Their love, a sacred art,
An endless, selfless, glowing gift, Etched deeply in my heart.
By Shristi Shreya
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