I Am Your Child

Mother, most dear mother The taste of your milk lingers still on my lips The hours spent on cuddles and coos And soft palms ‘pon my back Preparing me for the future - A future of pats and whacks – The softness gone when I’m wrong How you manage to do it I don’t know. But What I do know I know is This: I am your creation Whether I go forth, hither or thither A stop! A stop, I say! No more the mindless calls to petty duty For me, I am done My skin longs for a taste of the sun I am your child but I’m no longer one Spare the look of surprise when I’m gone.