We have  expressed our love  for strangers,

Offered our all to those we never new before,

We have made others the desire or our eyes,

Yet forgotten  the only person who can best eulogize us.


Their love is tender and chaste,

Not based on gender and caste,

Their  affection  is genuine and pure,

And their penchant  sanguine and sure,


Their  love has little to do with our goodness,

Neither attracted by our consideration,

Their tutelage has made us attractive,

Yet they will not  demand omnipresence,

Upon our survival they gave their all,

Conscientiously leading us on,

When physicians called us blastocyst,

They saw a blessing  in us,


The world  has given them a single day in the annium,

But I  purpose  to celebrate them everyday,

O the one  who feels travail yet again,

When they see us in throesM

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