Her love doesn't reek of greed
For on her bosom lay many a soul that feeds
Her kindness doesn't reek of desire
For she is void of this infutile mire

Her motherhood isn't constricted by the chains of time
For she is a product of elements none can mime

Her beauty isn't her own
For through her children 'tis born,
Her misery isn't her home
For 'tis borne by her children alone.

- Aadya Gautam
(15 years)