Mother and Daughter

A Poem by John

.

Mother, look at that funny bird.
Yes, my dear, it's quite absurd.
The egg that it lays neither hard not white
But soft and brown and smelling of shite.
I know, my dear, such is a t**d.

Oh mother, look at that strange child.
Her mouth is slack and her eyes wild.
Her back is stooped and her skin sags
And hangs like clothes that have turned to rags.
Who can she be with all her fears?
That's you, my child, in seventy years.