My mum gave me a pot which was much dear to me as gold.
I used it for cooking.
At times I poured water into it which gave a cool taste to quench my thirst.
People saw it as my identity.
Since I used it for my daily routine.
One evening, I approached it,
And saw jewelry of all kinds.
From whence did they come.
I gleamed at them carefully.
They were real and natural as gold.
I gave some to others,
Because sharing is caring.
People loved me for my old pot.
