BLOOD
Her womb cries every month.
It's painful but she has learnt
That it's what makes her capable
to give birth,
When she nurtures new life
with all the warmth.
She spends her blood, brain and bones
To create mountains from the stones.
The magic that runs through her veins,
Don't let that create stains.
Embrace her in sickness and in health.
She has the blood, costlier than any wealth.
No comments:
Post a Comment