Greg is student
So am I
He is in photo art
But not I
His model a mother
So was mine
He holds camera
Shoots left and shoots right
I have kept the pixels
In corner of my mind
My mother sacrificed
“I am sure; come my son”
She called and she told me
“Well; here you start.”
I had the syringe-set
Sterilized but basic
She was my ever first
From then and onward
Injection was my job
It was work and bread
Though young, and too young
I was called everywhere
To act as their doctor
Both IV and IM,
Useful was injection
For me and school
For them as patients
Greg can, and will be
A great example
Thanks to his grandma
As I owe to my mom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem