Only known to the one who cares
The one who cares about the cold mornings and nights?
Prepares breakfast, a cool shower and a warm bed for it
Seen as a burden to the one who created.

Standing in hope of making moneys
For its beautiful future
Though hard for it to understand
Because all it needs is time not money
But love

That loves, healing all its sicknesses
Unknown temperatures and worries
How shameful…
The love of the bearer is far from it,
Further than the sky from the ground.
In growing up, all smiles and pains
Attributed to the comforter of moments
And not the proprietor.

‘Am to Pm’ schedule for a day(Mon…Fri)
Lasting meetings and functions for the weekends,
All this keeps it in vain of blood loneliness.
They find carrying it is unbearable
Taking their own joy as pain in the ***
A great gift taken as a disturbance of peace,
Who knows how terrible you were by that age?
I consider you a coward of your own creation.

See no further, but rather think closer to reconciliation
Care takers turning out as mummy!!!
Which ought to be a sweet name for the Author.
They still carry on with no guilt
Money is what they call responsibility
Yet the poor groom brains with no cash.