A tiny cry, a brand-new day,
A mother is born in a different way.
The world rejoices, the hearts are light,
But within her stirs a quiet fight.

She holds her child, so soft, so small,
Yet wonders—does she know it all?
Love is there, yet so is fear,
Loneliness whispers, ever near.

They say, “This joy will never end,”
But no one asks, “How have you been?”
She smiles, she nods, she plays her part,
While silent questions fill her heart.

Not every bond is built in a blink,
Motherhood takes time to sink.
So stay beside her, through thick and thin—
Sometimes, she just needs someone to sit in.