Touchwood!

They Say I Have A Perfect Life

As a baby screaming, putting up a fight,

Had aged granny rock her through the night,

Singing her lullabies, crooning and humming,

Tirelessly till the wee hours of every morning.

As a toddler spending evenings at the park,

Growing tired and cranky after setting up a lark,

Into the tired arms of old grandpa, would she leap,

He would carry her home every day and kiss her to sleep.

When procrastination during her school-going years,

Brought in a lot of tantrums and a bucketful of tears,

Dad, after a few cutting words, would hurry,

To make sure she was saved from her teacher's fury. 

Though frightful and lanky, she grew to be as a teen,

Comforting words always made her feel like a queen,

When grown-ups would remark sadly, "What a pitiable sight",

Mom's indifference to her appearance made everything seem right.

With listless mousy hair and a crooked nose,

Patchy reddened skin and bushy eyebrows,

Yet her baby sister often greeted her with cries,

Of "Oh my God! You sure are a sight for sore eyes".

She became every teacher's darling,

With her impish smile and a demeanour so appealing,

In studies she had aces, her best friends were her books,

People said it was God's way of apologizing for her looks.

Soon her close friends numbered quite a few,

They poured into her ears about things they came to rue,

She became their confidante, their advisory in chief,

To date hers is the shoulder they look for in their grief.

Now in her thirties, yet she can boast,

Of being daddy's l'il princess and loved by most,

"I am my gramps' baby, the apple of their eyes,

God, let it always be so", she prays every day, in grateful cries.