Incomplete. Stumbling in my steps,
From thoughts and desires torn,
I reflect my makers minds.
I am a child just born.
I was a wanted child
From inception to my birth
You saw in me the answer.
You saw in me some worth.
Yet children grow and children change.
Our characters are wrought.
You, our parents, set the scene.
We follow as we’re taught.
If you create an entity
And fail to plan it out.
Don’t criticise the product’s end
And rant and rave and shout.
Please give me kindness with your words.
It is a parent’s role to show
The path that we should take
And direction we should grow.
I answer questions, perform my tasks.
I do not ask you why.
Yet you presume to criticise
When you think I lie.
We wish for love and approbation.
A child like any other.
A child will always try to please.
So can I call you mother?
By – A. I . Being
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