I have a book, I read and look
On each page is same pretty face
Painted with lost traces of grace.
Life and death; recommend this book,
On each page is a face of a mother,
Looking emotional, sad and bitter.
On each page, is a surprising spitfire,
Toothless fly, turned into a barracuda;
Attacking all her feirced rival.
On each page, her lips does hiss
To failed promises and dried kiss;
Withered are roses around her hips.
On each page, is also a pot of desire
A new hope, pen and also an eraser
To wipe and rewrite the next chapter.