My Mother

Poem By Ann Taylor

Sometimes in life we fall into
What prolly we are not ought to.
Sometimes like rock we remain so,
Sometimes like plant we grow.
Less nutrient, some die,
Photosynthesis up, some rise.
Rise, rise, rise so high,
High, high, high, then dies.
We fall in love, we crush our heart,
We fall in love, in suit of arts.
We fall for those who don't fall for us,
If she says no, we want it by force.
It may be genuine, deep from heart,
Like sequoia deep in soil's heart.
Then her no, uproots it,
Like she never care, like she hated it.
Her mouth, a hoe, to hoe the weed.
She's high on words, makes you weep.
You wait, wait, wait, maybe She'll change mind,
But no, no, no, she's got another kind.
Life is not what you want it to be,
When it give them good, it gives you ill.
Take her offer however it seems,
Take it first, then change it to your will.
19: 06: 08: 21: 00

Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral Rap. Strokes.

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