hadarms dha poet

Manhood.

He was born with a plastic SPOON,
Whining and crying under the bright
MOON.
Caressed and loved to be CARRIED,
Cos he was young nor did he PARRIED.
Little him was then an ANGEL,
The wish of every man in that ANGLE.
So much love for a little CHILD,
For the first male child need to be MILD.
And gently carried, delicate he WAS.
After much searchings, important he IS.
For this child shall we TEND TO.
His ways and manners shall we MEND TO.
He grew up with that spoon INFUSED
Iron, silver or gold spoon hard to USE
The little baby angel turning into a ...