I wrote a sonnet about my mom, but does it really make sense?



If I were to describe you in words,
My attempt is audacious, it’d be lowbrow,
you are worth more than all the words
I know. Your illuminated life that I borrowed,

I’d like to pay it back, but it’s too tremendous.
You’ve always supported us come what may
You, the most adored, most dear, most loved
I see you’ve done enough for your duty

You’ve relinquished your most brilliant
in favors of ours. When we didn’t deserve it.
You are the reason for my life,
My words confine my love towards you.

I love you in a way no one else can.
I love you much more than love itself can.