Who keeps a diary in the form of poetry?

Mother's love.

There was a hot, hot night,

I woke up from a dream,

Mom is giving me a fan,

Sweat soaked her clothes.

Ah! Motherly love is a cool wind.

It was a cold rainy day,

Mom picked me up from school,

An umbrella covered my head,

The rain hit my mother.

Ah, maternal love is an umbrella to keep out the rain.

Once I got sick,

My mother took me to the hospital.

Touching my hot forehead,

Mother cried anxiously.

Ah, maternal love is a tear.

One day, I broke the thermos,

Lying to mom again,

My mother's criticism made me blush,

I dare not look up into her eyes.

Ah, maternal love is a reproachful look.

Once the teacher asked to use the word "most" to make a sentence.

I said, "I love my mother the most."

My mother told me, "What we should love most is our motherland.

The motherland is the mother of all of us. "