Mother me?

Can’t I be something other than thee?

Can’t my branches grow?

Ever which way to and fro?

And be as beautiful as long Hair?

Long, free, loose and Fair?

Is it normal for a tree to be so straight?

A choice only you claim, for my fate

To re-phrase, re-make, re-grow, Re-break

Douse my in guilt for my own sake!

Am I nothing but, a beautiful empty flower?

That your rain forces grow by shower?

Does not help only drowns my leaves in holy water impure

Crack, I break to juvenile lure.

Holy water in god’s bless

Has taught me how to speak and dress

My branch broke and bounded mess

What does a matter give for a tree

A tree like me

My words Low?

My mother, Forces My grow

Who help my branches straight by rod

Dare I say, My mother…Plays God


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