From day one, at the end of my destination, i enjoyed my loneliness.
I were born and thought, Mum 'll fed me, my legs 'll plunge into her cuddling arms.
I grew up with my dreams in a cot, on a wet bed with non-identical stress,
i thought I will lay down on her spongy breast to smile with my charms.
She started a job, pulled me every morning from my bed to drop at school,
Dressed me forcibly, fed me as a bully, my tears and cry was all fool,
i were n't allowed to walk free at home to touch things without her permission,
i were blamed with others I'm naughty spreads rubbish with my submission,
But I am a star of my family, they celebrate my births to collect presents for me,
my life was boring and nasty Mum was willing a baby girl, who cares my worry?
I appreciated her wound was bigger than my birth and pain is deep than my cry,
I spent my days with games when entered in her room she treated me as a spy.
She had a year off to care for me, did she care for me I grew up with my granny's wrinkles?
In the stories of Ghosts, kings, fairy queens, dinosaurs and little twinkles.
Copyright © Daljit Khankhana