Shrill cries meant an another life on this earth,
As kith and Kin welcomed happily his expected birth,
Born he was, with a beautiful punny reddish face,
Bound to bloom as a flower in the coming days.

Those twinkling eyes cute as a grape though closed,
Fascinates one and all, as he gently posed;
His tiny nose though sharp as a pin,
Drugs people faster than a cup of gin.

His pinkish lips soft as a bud, shining like the dew,
Many exclaimed his looks could be possessed only by few,
His sandal body was soft and lustrous as silk,
And his inner self, no one denied was pure as milk;

Free from all worries, don’t blame his ignorance,
As he is still wrapped in the warmth of innocence.
It’s his time, his time, the period of short-lived glory,
A time will come my friend when you too will step into ignominy.