we wonder did you ever think of us
(although 'till then we had not yet been born)?
and did you deem it minus or a plus,
how every one of us would be a thorn?
we know that growing up we brought much pain,
from broken lamps to lies to cries for toys;
we hope that we were more than just a bane --
that somehow we were also gifts of joy.
but now indeed we seem to all have gone,
abandoned you with naught but retrospect.
and this when you have given us our dawn;
our sense of good; our lives; our self-respect!
although we've left, we still need love from thee;
our mother you shall never cease to be.
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