Stuffy and Fluffy

Stormy in the playground, sunshine of our lives,  cold crazy siblings and  bruises. An autumn of change. Kids…

A piece by Common Man’s Corner.

Sweet children till six, but later need a fix
Born out of heaven, their purity is given
To mothers sweet and coy, they come as bundles of joy
Slow to open their eyes, they cry like copious skies

Laugh in a minute and then they cry, hard to keep their nappies dry
Tumble and fall from their beds, they bang the walls with their heads
Slowly but surely they learn to walk, in gibberish, they start to talk
Naughty but simple, with all they readily mingle

Enjoy their every prank, but take their stuff and see them crank
They turn their beds into a puddle and leave their parents in muddle
Fight friends with all might, but hold on to them real tight
Ready to be molded like loose clay, barefoot they play all day

We may make them stuffy or simple, still time for their first pimple
Copy their parents like God, can get spoiled without sparing the rod
Their moods are never artificial, they know not to act superficial
Riches of the world are futile, a toy for them is more worthwhile

Eager to speak their mind, towards helpless beings they are kind
Their love is for keeps, even if our pockets are not deep
Hardly mince their words, but wage a battle for milk and curds
They eat the dust and chew their nails, love to travel by the rails

Itching to bathe and comb on their own, their actions are never known
From clumsy, they turn clever, as sweetness does not last forever
Sweet children will become adults, but let them make no new cults
Hatred may make them stuffy, but love can leave them fluffy.