We live and laugh as if we will not live for long
Although we live forever in the nightmares of
Our innocent mothers, as mistakes, as abominations
And regrets. They love us wholeheartedly even without another half
They hide us and shush the gossip, and we wish we could
Talk from the cradle like Jesus and plead our mother’s cases.
But we know that we are voiceless in our shame, we live with
The guilt of a man who brags of his love yet supports not
The product of such. Men who love too much, men who
Cannot control their love, men who sing on stars and expensive suits
With expensive flowers and gold trinkets until.
Until we wreck it all.
Abortion would have been more beautiful than a life without a Name
Where we are condemned to cower to society’s comfort, in Shadows.
