Mother

Jacqueline Weir


With a billion hungry children
On her back
She crawls
That extra mile
To feed them
Hands cracked and bloodied
Knees worn down
To the bone
She crawls
To meet their 
Incresing demands
For things she knows
They will never
Need
She crawls
Through the ashes
Of her former life
Wondering how
She could ever have borne
Such selfish seed
She crawls
As her backbone creaks
Under the strain
Of another billion
Unecessary births
Each one concieved
Under the blanket
Of egotism
Each one concieved
As a territorial act
She crawls
Asking for so little
In return
As they draw her blood
To bathe themselves
And tear out her hair
To burn
She crawls
Angry but patient
Dissapointed but loving
Breaking her back
For ungrateful offspring
Wishing them well
But damning
Their greedy hearts
As the unending
Uneven road
Stretches out before her
She crawls.




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