Motherhood
Motherhood,
Made,
But not a creation,
A period of celebration,
A time with impression,
Not named to be,
But how it came to be,
Stress,tears,
Possession,expression,
Depression, confusion,
Are part of the little pains ,
A mother face.
But in the space,
Of time pace,
Joy is prominent ,
Laughter, imminent,
But the means ,
Of the pains,
And a mile,
With a smile,
Are the struggle,
The hustle,
Of their fears,
And cares.
The calling,
Of the feeling,
Of fulfilment,
And accomplishment,
Are the hope,
To cope,
the duty,
of her purity.
To show off,
Is to call off,
Her duty,
Of responsibility,
Which is not so,
But just so,
Are the rights,
Like the church the tithes,
Of her sacrifice,
The first fruit,
Of her first fruit,
With is a duty made,
Not a responsibility said or paid,
As of creation,
A position,
Motherhood is to be a treasure,
And not a time of pleasure.
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