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An ovum is an egg,
A cellular phenomena,
That brings to every meeting,
An amazing bit of stamina.
The direction that it grows,
And which turn that it will take,
Depends upon the sperm,
With which it has to mate.
It may turn out to be a woman,
Or perhaps a tiger,
No one really knows,
Until one see some claws,
Or perhaps some tiny toes.
But watch out for such a little cell,
For whichever it might grow to be,
Either one can take your head,
Before you have a chance to see.

~Poetic Always~

I appreciate your input. You may send me an original poem or
quotation which could be published here in future weeks.
It will of course be attributed to you if you wish.

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