An ode to mother.

I can think of one hundred and one better things to post than this, but decided there's nothing more fun than makin' a fool outta myself. Plus, I aim to please my mother. This is an example of a very bad poem that I wrote quite a few years ago, when we were experimenting with different forms of poetry in class. It's called a pantoum (I hope that's right), and it's s'posed to be repetitive (that comment was for you, Dad).

Um... what else can I say? I actually hate this poem, which makes it easier to share. However, Mum was complaining that I never write about her, so I'm disproving that theory (sort of... cause the poem is actually more about me, I think). Now she'll prolly complain that I said it was a bad poem. Anyway, just ignore this if you're not poetically inclined... I know it can be a very selfish thing, poetry, and all of mine def is, considering I only really write it for myself. So, consider yourselves lucky to be seein' this. Anyways, enuf verbal muck and on with the...

Mother, Did I Ever Learn To Walk?

Mother did I ever learn to walk?
It seems like I’ve been on my knees,
ever since I left your womb.
Mother did I ever take those first steps?

It seems like I’ve been on my knees -
I’ve crawled too far through life.
Mother did I ever take those first steps -
and fall with tears, into your arms?

I’ve crawled too far through life,
I want to fly back
and fall with tears, into your arms
and bundle off my fears.

I want to fly back
I want to be your baby girl again -
and bundle off my fears.
I never wanted to be weaned away.

I want to be your baby girl again.
Ever since I left your womb
I never wanted to be weaned away.

Mother did I ever learn to walk?