Saturday, June 14, 2014


Motherhood is a blessing,
they all gush with pride!
But what if it bore
a thankless child?

A form that took form,
as you’d bleed
Is a grown-up who now sees you,
as a mouth to feed!

A hand that reached out,
all its growing years
Won’t offer a finger,
to wipe away a tear.

Feet that stepped on,
now step away
Eyes that looked on,
now see you as stray.

Is it upbringing at fault?
Or a young mind at flaw?
Is motherhood worth a risk?
Who gets to take a call?

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