Conversations Poem by Hardik Vaidya

Mom is worried, she came to me.
Why do you write poems which are so much me?
She didn't use the phrase, I got her deep ink,
Mommy don't you complain you raised me to be me.
She says getting personal is a poets bane,
I laugh silly woman nudity is a poets game,
If I can't be nude, what shall I write?
I in suit and boots, will my soul shine?
She doesn't understand.
Not that she has not the brains,
Her heart weeps because, her boy is in pain.