Wednesday, December 26, 2012


Mother -
your children were endangered
while you were playing house;
pretty bows and three-piece suits
couldn't shield their eyes;
the pain that came
in whispered lies
built their lives on fear;
some days you gifts were kind,
a distraction from the real,
but they knew what you were hiding
was truth more sure than words.

Mother -
have you heard your children's song?
Did you think they were misguided?
Their roots were twisted by your needs,
but pain has made them real;
their paths have parted,
they've sought their souls
in places lush and barren;
what cures they've found
grew untainted by veneers;
you'll find your world
of skirts and ties
far from where they dwell. 

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