My adorable child has gone astray
He went berserk and won’t change his way.
A proud child of mine,
Who emerged all fine,
But still surreptitiously, went astray.
I gave him my sky and the golden sunshine,
Bestowed upon him my opulence so fine,
But still discontent, he whimpered and went astray.
He deranged my other bairns,
Dislodging them for his edifices and shrines.
He savoured on some, crossing the tolerance lines.
But still, gluttonously he went astray.
He hurt my rooty veins, debased my unpigmented blood,
Balmed my Zephyr with toxic mold.
Turning a blind eye to my acrid tears he remained astray.
Now that a sycophant invades his kingdom,
Making him run for his life helter-skelter,
Confining him, to his own Ego Castle,
I sit and ponder, who is the real parasite?
Is it the novel baby fresh out of my womb?
Or my pet child who’s gone astray?
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