A soft interior masking outward dare,
Lies behind hard crust vulnerable core,
At home family never makes it fair,
Away, deemed easy prey to lurking lure;
All conspire to make her cake hard to bake,
Creepy colleagues meander where she works,
And sycophant lurks irritates and irks,
She feels like fish in showcase, out of lake.
Clamouring at home for pricey this-that,
Resentful kids are ready to revenge,
Poor grades and conduct an alibi fat,
A mother not at home's still somewhat strange.
As much glitz and glamour as there is gore,
Her success still to me seems myth much more.
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Sonnets | 02.10 05 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A mother not at home's still somewhat strange. As much glitz and glamour as there is gore, Her success still to me seems myth much more........loved these lines. A brilliant poem from your pen is presented here amazingly. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you dear KM for reading this 2005 poem