Poetry & Prose

Mother of Beauty

“It’s just a phase of every life,”
The adults like to say.
When offspring of a common pair
Begin to disobey.

They’ll fight, they’ll feud, they’ll interfere,
By Cain and Abel’s lead.
For children – namely those of kin –
Are hardly all agreed.

Yet as the farmers grow to men
And younger shepherds age,
Their boiling blood runs cooler and
Respect is born from rage.

For all begin to realize
Their own misguided ways:
Their twin or kin the enemy,
Instead of numbered days.

Then soon enough, they too will take
Their final breaths of air;
And what a shame to realize
That love could have repaired

The youthful battles—bored disputes—
Our mothers couldn’t cease.
For she grows old, thus from her rule
We siblings are released.

We’re disciplined by someone else,
A stricter reaper now;
For beauty’s mother wakes us up
Before she lays us down.

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