Like a lump in her womb
Was my seed in her tube;
Washing her skin into mottled pigment of a cube
Invoking amidst her being a strange feud.
As the odd presence of a teetotaller in a pub,
Her feet clogged with the weight of beach sands,
Swinging her feet to unfair balance;
Her mouth wane,
Like murky streams holes
Cut out in cones;
Insipid like the savour of metal bones.
Her words in blurry mine
Sticky as repitilian shine;
My birth, an awaited grace,
Shutting her face
In the theatre of bizarre fate,
So I won’t lose my race.
Clocks ticks slowly,
Moments drag excessively
The pangs of death shrill loudly;
Darkness crest her shoulders,
Weakness she shuddered
Her eyes flapping like papery shutters.
A form within trouble for the world to see.
In a minute, the ethreal world she sojourned,
The energy of bliss in tears she summoned;
In her head were sparks of devastating lightning,
Submerging her world in ferocious imageries.
As I tore through her tissues,
Into the intreating hands in queue;
Yet, her silver-cord
Launched forth my umbilical cord;
Like letting a rope to a kite to roar.
Her life against death’s stake
To hold my fragile frame
All just stood in awry gaze
As in the world I took my place
Of her pains to have me stay
She never complained.
But, a smile and a kiss for all the agony in wait.
So, this convener of my frame
Is the most famous of all being of fame;
For my soul on the sands of time, she compelled to stay.
My mother is the best in the world, cause she went through all these for me and made me what I am today. God bless my mother and that’s why she’s so SWEET…..


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