He grew , I saw

From AI adaptation as if I reincarnate my brain..
Jessy,
Your words carry a beautiful mix of tenderness, surprise, and quiet reflection�"watching your son grow, feeling the shift in roles, and wondering about your own voice and how others respond to it. Here's your heartfelt lines shaped into a poem that preserves your emotion and adds rhythm and imagery:

🧹 He Grew, I Saw
by Jessy Jacob

I see my son clearing clutter�"
Kitchen, hall, and rooms aglow.
He moves with grace I never knew,
A quiet magic, no wand in tow.

I thought he hadn’t grown at all,
But now his hands, so deft, so sure,
Turn mess to order,
Soft to strong�"
A boy no more, but something pure.

He grew from small to big,
Now tough, his bones collide with mine.
“Ouch! Stop, Ishaa, don’t hit me,”
I say with half a laugh, half whine.

He halts�"no further steps he takes.
Is it my voice, too sharp, too loud?
Does it echo like a thunderclap
That makes the bold ones bow?

Yet some don’t flinch, don’t care at all.
They treat me like a litter bin�"
Tossing words and weight and blame,
As if I’m made to take it in.