My little caravan chief

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He cries for his lost and broken toys.
He asks daily for his father who is abroad.
He thinks of me always as “miss know all”
For him, I am his mother no less then God.
You, my son always make e feel so humble.
Still I get wary, lest I should fumble!
For you I am an inseparable immortal soul,
“You will never die, mom,” so you always say.
I hold your little hands and you take a promise.
“Promise, you will always be with me, whatever may!”
I do not know, how to answer your unending questions,
With the exact content or in jest!
But for sure, you keep me forever on my toes,
Still I love this caravan of life, and this eternal fest.