What Am I Mom
Thou are a flower and fragile, my dear
Sprout at dawn, beautiful in the morning
Fit for nothing less of an angel’s gift
But gathered around by predators’ claws
With words so calm and tone sweetly melodious
Beautiful smiles and most flattering gist
Just to have a feel of thy innocent sepals
They suck the nectar till the sepals wrinkle
At noon thy beauty fades like the rain cloud
From thy stalk thou fall beneath the feet
They trample on thee and go their way
When flowers of less beauty than thee
Shall gather at dusk in contest before nobles
Scars would have, your beauty dented
From afar they’ll laugh and discuss you
‘I marred a flower as pretty as that’
They’ll chat and wave as you walk in shame
Beware my dear, guard thy sepals so precious
When it falls from stalk it cannot return
Even when they stand and say to you:
‘What is yours to give, is not yours to keep’
Stand back, reply and say to them:
‘When it’s time to give, I’ll give it all’
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