Ma

I am her daughter, her flesh and her blood,

She is my mom, He assigned her to be.

In her hands, I grow, I bloom and I bud,

I am guided by her and she by me.

Kind she is but I oft seek a reprieve

From her tight grip, and I wonder, in truth,

When will I be granted the chance to leave?

Oh how cruel is this tumultuous youth.

But with her I will not fall out of love,

No matter her madness or new dispute.

I will change myself and remain above,

To me she has the apical repute.

Though I cannot say where my life will go,

Forever we will stay close, this I know.