ME...FROM THE MOTHER OF MINE
from where and what
i came from...
a bundle of clay i lay
seemed a bundle of joy
to the mother of mine
she did start to mold me
gave me love and food
or love with food...
as i grew to be naughty
she told me what to do
and what not to...
the mother of mine...
did give me the lead to decide
as to what to do
and what not to do...
she has never ever told me
what to read and what not to
she never told me what to pray for
how to scheme she could never teach
a rough and tough yet a simple soul
the mother of mine....
has warned me whom to be careful with
has never ever told me...
that she was my priority
she felt secure about my love
even when i was not around
me...from the mother of mine
was my own with a lot of her in me
like how she was a lot of her mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem