What Am I Mom

Thou are a flower and fragile, my dear Sprout at dawn, beautiful in the morning Fit for nothing less of an angel’s gift But gathered around by predators’ claws With words so calm and tone sweetly melodious Beautiful smiles and most flattering gist Just to have a feel of thy innocent sepals They suck the nectar till the sepals wrinkle At noon thy beauty fades like the rain cloud From thy stalk thou fall beneath the feet They trample on thee and go their way When flowers of less beauty than thee Shall gather at dusk in contest before nobles Scars would have, your beauty dented From afar they’ll laugh and discuss you ‘I marred a flower as pretty as that’ They’ll chat and wave as you walk in shame Beware my dear, guard thy sepals so precious When it falls from stalk it cannot return Even when they stand and say to you: ‘What is yours to give, is not yours to keep’ Stand back, reply and say to them: ‘When it’s time to give, I’ll give it all’