On My Own Poem by Chai Amos

I have been on a lone journey of a serious search,
During which time I did a series of research,
I imagined crawling on my own,
But my effort often landed me down.

Then my mother,
Yes my only mother,
Helped me up and guided me slowly,
The results were quiet different from my folly,
Two-three metres I comfortably crawled,
And at the end you would think I am an experienced expert.

After several rounds on the floor and on fours,
I began to admire those who stood and walked on fours,
I hit the ground mercilessly upon my first attempt,
My limbs, oh my limps were broken as if with contempt.

Upon recovering from my bed after sixty days,
My mother, I mean the same mama, came without delays,
With her I strode from point to point,
And now here I am, able to walk without breaking a joint.

There's a single truth I've never forgotten fro my tender age,
My elderly brothers led me astray out of love or rage,
They would instruct me to close my eyes and walk,
Then they were all smiles when I was pierced by thorns and couldn't talk.

My caring mother-then emerged,
She led me on the right path as the age,
To-date as we talk,
I am on the very same path,
And I have no plan of deserting it even with the soundest math.