get that comb, and do up your hair
it is almost noon, still you laze around?
food gone cold, and congealed on plate
you stare at nothing with a morose face
your books lie awry, your PC switched on
ignored, neglected looking so very forlorn
worse than a child, oh daughter of mine-
why is that at home, you lose your shine?
even as an infant, you never slept so much
now at four decades of your age, life's such
"you are still here, and I still have to care"
Psst: please don't tell my mother that I wrote this in her voice!