Poem:

Listen, young man,

Whoever you are,

Your mother is waiting,

She grieves from afar.

She’s alone and feels

Abandoned and lost,

Like a rag doll used

And finally tossed.

She silently weeps;

Her heart is rent,

Remembering times

So pleasantly spent,

When she weaned and nursed

You to manhood and health,

Until your attainment

Of comfort and wealth.

Listen, young man,

Wherever you roam,

Forget not to visit

The old-age home.