Talking to myself through poetry
Home » Theme » Epic Poems » Hazel’s Diary: An Infant hobby
I don’t care
If she picked my growing shoes
Or her mother’s soft healing hands
As long as she is just my happy girl.
I don’t care
If she picked from either sides
Maternal or paternal light
So long she is the best in what she does.
I don’t care
I watch her smile sheepishly,
Humming to songs from the stereo
As if she knows the lyrics to the songs…
I don’t care
About the beats or musician
How did an infant love music
And happens to just love to dance as well.
I followed flying butterflies as I craved But they landed me deep into a grave I bled right on the floor not just the pain…
Used to think a lot More of lust, no fault A big bum, big breast Pretty face, white teeth… Yet, one met no one Wired…
A special thank you to all philanthropists From east to west and north to south; Up the sky; freely the littlest of birds fly In…
The alleviated pains from cradle to this very day Has been a bundle of joy, a perfect gift I must say How fast the hand…
