Mother
In reckless abandon my mind trekked,
But I "became", by the ardor in your being
Despite the discomfort,
You preserved me in your pouch
When you could have chosen to wash me away
With great pains and agony you brought me forth,
Can I be ashamed of her that bore me?
One thing remains,
Even now that I am grown,
Your love I have not outgrown.
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