Mama said you are
doing this so well
and thus she taught me
to be good, and now
I teach my children
by not being strict
that they can accidentally
or deliberately do something
that is not allowed
I see them discover
who they are, who they think
they are and wish to be
and about myself I am
thinking: who am I and
what has remained?
What is the blend
of my identity, the I
in my brain?
Beautiful poem dear poet.....thanks.
Thank for your daily reading, and your appreciation.