Treasure Island

Abdul Wahab


Male Mother


I had a bun in the oven
From which I suffered the pain
Out of desperation I took a knife
Straight I went to the room of operation
What a nice Anglo-Indian baby I got
The pain and suffering, I all forgot
I wiped the face and cut the cord
Still in it remained lots of errors
Yet with all of its defects and deformities
My mind dazzles and heart pounds
My joy knows no bounds,
I am extremely happy
I feel pride for being a mother of a baby.

Submitted: Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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Comments about this poem (Male Mother by Abdul Wahab )

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  • Heather Wilkins (9/22/2013 4:45:00 PM)

    these are emotions only a mother will experience. With a bun in the oven a lovely verse is created, An excellent metaphor Wahab. 10* (Report) Reply

  • Sallam Yassin (9/19/2013 6:16:00 PM)

    the skin of gold
    and eyes blue
    Anglo-Indian by birth
    but her scope is the world and she will make u proud (Report) Reply

  • Harindhar Reddy (9/19/2013 8:57:00 AM)

    Yes Wahabji each poet goes through poem while creating a poem. You composed little cute poem with immense feelings. It wonderful work from you. Fantastic write! (Report) Reply

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