Born with a silver spoon
She grew up listening to the stories of the moon
To which she swooned swooned and swooned!
...
The voices of the old often go unheard
In the cacophony of the material world
Where the young choose pace over peace
To live a life of hunger and greed
...
The Daughter
Born with a silver spoon
She grew up listening to the stories of the moon
To which she swooned swooned and swooned!
Her constant companions were Barbies and Bears
Toys that were to her most dear
When taken away she would be in tears
Life was full of vibrant hues
Surroundings always kept her enthused
Sorrows she had never met
Hence there was nothing to fret
Her wishes were fulfilled in no time
For her parents more than anything, she was prime
Privileges she had abound
A small screech would throng people around
Endless demands and tantrums many more
Abundant care and supplies galore
By parents who made her life special
Her bonding with them she always treasured
But they became memories soon
She felt with them had gone the boon
She saw the evils of the world hand in glove
She had everything but love
She knew life had betrayed
But despite the wrath of nature, she never swayed
Today she has no grievances no grumblings
She knows she would not gain from rumblings
She knows listening to those murkier murmurings
One ought to have a heart gracious and humbling