Mama Cry

Mama Cry

She is not that old but has lived long,

Long enough to suss out right from wrong.

From the looks, she is not that old,

She exudes amaranth freshness of a young girl

Stepping through the nubile threshold.

But make no mistake, she is old enough

To have taken Planetary ride – some smooth and others rough.

And yet all these Notwithstanding, she wishes -

As everyone does, against all those who vied

And wagered she has a slim chance to survive -

Much longer to live,

But paradoxically, she also has the craving to die.

Most of the time she laughs

And with the beauty that she is,

She woos with ease the hearts of the most intrepid beasts.

But, be warned, she has a sad side,

How hard try she might, she cannot hide.

In between the long and seductive laughter of hers

Intermittently and unexpectedly she also bursts into paroxysm cries.

When asked why?

She did reply

That she had relied

Upon children who unashamedly deny

In her black womb once they did lie.

"That hurts and makes me cry,

Because it is utter lie."

She said this as she lay

In hospital, recovering from a wound

To her abdomen, from the back she got harpooned

In the back garden of her domain

Where she reared the children,

By, who else, but, one perfidious creation of here own,

Who had lost his mind.