Praying for Menopause

I invented a smile, when the water broke beneath the pain of labour, joy found a hold A gift, dearly worthy more than silver and gold I dreamt a variation of futures with colour Painting soft strokes on the canvas of prospects A distant future, seen through a microscopic scope of preconceived aspirations My doctor, my lawyer, my teacher, such exuberant expectations Alas! just a few moons, earth recalls to be one with its element Why give?, to only take Why build?, if only to break Why chance a remake?, just to reclaim One, two, three, four A roll call of my seeds, no more.