Poor Mom's prolific University

Mom came with a pile of books
Kept on the table and removed her shoes.
And said; ' Hello! Sonny still time to learn,
Jump into an University dear.'
'Mom! I am not a boy and already fifty eight.
How do they enroll me when the graveyard too refuses?
Also they have locked the gate for holidays.' I said angrily.
' I have the Master key if you get ready at anytime.' She said smilingly.
It's a dream I know but my poor Mom still holds that innocent hope
And I felt very sorry for her when I see other Moms on my way to work.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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