Mother's Child

Jennifer Paige©1998

Now, my child, you would be five

Do you turn back in anger,

            My child?

Hear the apologies

Hear the sympathy

From moonfaced girls with eyes down-turned

            Who lie—

In this life there are no fathers

Not in heaven or on earth

Whose arms are big enough to hold our fears

Once deserted by cinnamon words?

Wearing our hopes as their disguise

            Without remorse

Only to die knowing we betrayed ourselves

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