Oh tell me mother dear
What is it you hold dear?
Is it hopes and fears beyond the years?
Is it a need for love so strong
That you feel you don’t belong?
I can recall the stories and the holes in the walls
I can be four and not fear at all
You can surround me and separate from it all
If only that was all
If you try and measure, what gives us pleasure
Is it our fortress?
Is it our gall at how others fall?
Or do we just hold our fears dear,
And speak of them once of a year?