The Drumbeat

I recalled the good old times
When mother was an object of life.
Moments her words echoes in me
And those memories cease not to depart.

“Dum dum,” her drum emitted,
Slapping the drum words after words,
She goes,
“Adjust oh daughter
Be seated and hear my tome

Gone are the days:
When the old were young
When the weak were strong
When the wise were foolish
And only memory speaks.”

“Dum,” her drum continues,
“In this era,
Absorb carefulness,
Mind not the tongue of the world
For there lies your sorrow and joy

“Many phases of life I’ve seen,
Neglect not my words, oh daughter.
You are totally responsible for your loss and achievement,
Neither trust nor depend on anyone,
Always be in control and never be controlled.

“Oh, the opposite gender!”
She slaps her drum as my mind dances to each rhythm of her beat…
“Everything has its time on earth,
Give them no attention at this stage,
They are just bitter sugar (life frustrators)”

And at her death she goes thus,
“Dear daughter!
Be strong and witty and adhere to my farewell rhymes:
Be cautious, oh daughter,
The deceitful world isn’t smiling.”

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