Not Really a Poem
Motherhood is beautiful,
it makes you kind,
takes you to new levels,
and kicks your behind.
Your body transcends,
and is no longer your own,
your decor and tidiness escapes your home,
with each toy, trinket, or shoe that seems fun,
life takes on a new meaning with a little one
From an empty cup you may try to do what's right,
and may find yourself making the ultimate sacrifice...
Like making your children pasta, sitting in a corner to enjoy your curry chicken and last of your dahl pourri, only for them to leave their meal and devour yours after they refused it when you first offered.