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DYING WOMBS


Whereas they may be called fallopian

Meals prepared by the ovarian

Though with no account on YouTube

They house that famous tube

Striving and striking through

A life far from what’s true

Is there anyone responsible

Why the mosquito nets

Who sleeps here yet to be met

And as you drive along circle

You forget this is your preamble

The child you ignored to nurse

Although she boasts her father is a nurse

Won’t mom be forced

To eat dust and feed me flour

Did dad lie saying mom was his flower?

I’m a now a nine year old

But consider young Joe

How long, Should mom long

For an end of this street battle

Seeking alms not forthcoming

If only that rapist did never exist

We live, sleep and beg at airport

Not because we are well off

 But to see what life has installed

Anytime the car parks to pick mom away

I see tears in her smiles each day

If not for us, she wouldn’t have said yes.

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