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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It's almost 9 months, me in this dark and tight bag. Crouched were my knees, and upside down, my torso. I wanted to step out, and this bag got narrower than ever. Depression made me roll left and right, I did try to stretch my feet at times. I did hear some sounds of pain, every time, I tried this. Fancied, I was by those pieces of scream, I rolled more and more. That sound never ceased, A day. though I stayed as still as a statue. I felt a gesture of rush, I noticed being carried with panic. The bag around me, was no more calm. It showed wavy movements, Which intensified with time. Neither those sounds, nor these movements seemed to cease. Adding to my panic, now was a push at my feet. I was forced out at head, and more louder where those sounds now. More, The push i experienced, More were those sounds, I heard. To my amazement, I was out at last. Surprisingly, Those screams came to halt, Which escorted me out of captivity. I gazed a broad smile on the person, who kept me in captivity so far. She took me into her tender palms, that clutched me with ample love. I now realized, it was she yelling in pain, I heard all these days. She sustained all that copious pain, to let me out. My so called captivity, was indeed which put me to form. She shared her diet, and collected my waste. Minutes back that sound failed to cease, and now that smile failed to. May be this is the purest love, and I call it MOM.
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