A Mom-Made dish

Put my head in.

The stinky pot smelled.

The dish I hated.

I found.

It is a mom-made dish

My friend’s mom though.

For my graduation day?

Specially for my graduation day, she claims.

Beautifully mistook, she did.

That, to be my favourite.

Because I enjoyed smelling it,

she thought.

My childhood story it is.

That haunts me.

All my special days- she spoils.

Someone tell her, the stinky dish though.

I used teenage as the reason,

I explained it—

No more I like it.

Putting the blame on hormones.

Now that is how I saved.

My upcoming special days.

I love her, not her smelly dish.

Rude?

No, I just saved my days.

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