someone tells you it's mother's day,
and you believe her.
you believe most things that she
tells you.
she's a straight shooter, like that.
so you go out and buy flowers,
as box of chocolates,
a nice card. you are a good son,
or so you try hard to make everyone
believe.
but it isn't mother's day, but you
decide to make it so anyway.
in your mother's current mental state,
she won't know the difference,
so off you go, flowers in hand,
chocolates, signed with love,
your son.
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