Could be a cruel mother

My husband’s mother loved,
Cared and nursed my son,
More than she did her son,
Pouring her sweats and time.

Someone caring my son
Must be a source of pride
To me beside a relief.
Yet I felt most perturbed.

The child grew under her care;
The child found a good time
To be found near her
With its back towards me.

The lady must exit.
She did as I planned.
The child fell sick and felt
Bad about her absence.

I’ve been much relieved.
The child has much grieved.
I became much spirited
And the child, dispirited.

The welfare of the child
Was not my concern, ho!
My sole concern was that
It was under my spell.

Aren’t I a cruel mother?
21.09.2008

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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