MOTHER’S LOVE
We have expressed our love for strangers,
Offered our all to those we never new before,
We have made others the desire or our eyes,
Yet forgotten the only person who can best eulogize us.
Their love is tender and chaste,
Not based on gender and caste,
Their affection is genuine and pure,
And their penchant sanguine and sure,
Their love has little to do with our goodness,
Neither attracted by our consideration,
Their tutelage has made us attractive,
Yet they will not demand omnipresence,
Upon our survival they gave their all,
Conscientiously leading us on,
When physicians called us blastocyst,
They saw a blessing in us,
The world has given them a single day in the annium,
But I purpose to celebrate them everyday,
O the one who feels travail yet again,
When they see us in throesM
The Cleaver 