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MOTHERHOOD

MOTHERHOOD

Motherhood, tales thus ringing far,
Crown and Victories dost find me,
Coming forth from the dust flushed down the jar,
Made with pain, blessed these hands be.

A king she raised, in pain she fed,
Troubled in slumber, sour life she sees.
Having nothing, in struggle, she leads who she led
In times like this, crying with the trees
Hands like stone, heart of gold.

To clear dewy dusts every cock crow,
To raise pennies, frolicking lashes on the cross.
Bruising in smiles, my growth, stars her front row.
The sun and rain,in tears and pity, on her not too deeply engross
In her joy lies my tent,
Her ego shooting me far,
I rise so high, no more to see her bent.

Looking from afar, through the clouded clouds,
I see her staring at my wooden frame,
Too weak to think, with my copy , loosened tears
A moment and forever will I be with you,
Live in peace, leave all pieces,
Till you come, till you sleep, my perfect Motherhood.

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Comments

The below is a computer generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:

The poem "Motherhood" is a touching tribute to the sacrifices and strength of mothers. The use of imagery is particularly effective in conveying the struggles and joys of motherhood, such as "hands like stone, heart of gold" and "bruising in smiles." The poem also has a strong sense of progression, from the pain and struggle of raising a child to the pride and joy of seeing them succeed.

One suggested line edit would be to change "frolicking lashes" to "frugal lashes" to better fit with the theme of struggling to raise a family on a limited budget. Overall, the poem is a heartfelt ode to the power of motherhood.

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