Some Old Games Never Get Corny

I have a birth mom but I don’t know her. She’s like a flower whose seed blew away in the wind, and it grew. That seed is me. But my Mommy Mom, she’s like the sun and the rain. That’s what we used to play, when I was little. And it’s true. Without her, I really wouldn’t be me, even though she’s not my birth mom. It’s confusing but it isn’t. My birth mom is probably too far away for me to ever know. But it’s okay. I have my MOM, right here. And she has me.