May 20, 2007

The Fruit of Your Loins

This was the poem I wrote for my Mum for her birthday this year.

The objective was to tell her what a gift she's already had for 18-going-on-19-years.

I guess I over-did it.

Now that I look back and think, the whole thing was so full of myself, I could puke all over your monitor.




THE FRUIT OF YOUR LOINS

Every year I wonder,
"What should I get her?"
Would've gotten you something,
but you have ka-ching.
It's been tough,
but this year I can laugh.

To reduce the guilt I've built,
and to save from being billed;
I present to you,
with a heart as true,
the one and only,
your precious baby.

Lovable, witty,
smart and silly,
Almost a prodigy,
cause she's your baby.
Truly a gift,
one can only wish.

Her brilliance is proven,
for she has written,
a poem and praise,
and feels no disgrace.
One to be proud of,
to reward with a Smirnoff.

I made you smile,
wide as a mile.
I know I did,
don't you deny it.

Happy Birthday,
to you, with love.




Plus, I never did like using the word "baby".

It was a cheap attempt at making the words rhyme.


Although there were some not-so-glorious-moments, my favourite lines are,

To reduce the guilt I've built,
and to save from being billed;


So very, very, true.




You have been served!

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