text: she's talking about her own writing, either poem, novel or story:\n\nTranslated:\n\nYou child of my brain, who after I wrote you stuck around until others grabbed you and showed you around and tried to publish you even though you were flawed.  When they sent you back to me I thought you sucked so I tossed you aside, but since you were my work, I thought I could fix you.  So I edited you by fixing problems, but by fixing them, more problems were exposed.  I tried to lengthen and shorten you to make you sound better.  I tried to give you "better dress" but all I had was "home-spun cloth" which is to say, I tried to make you sound better but my imagination wasn't up to the task.  At last I sent you out lookin pretty bad, so I hope you don't fall into the hands of critics.  So go out and be read by people who haven't seen you and if they ask who your father is, say I don't have one.  If they ask who your mother is say that she was broke so she sent me out unfinished, so she could maybe make some cash.