Counsel
Sometimes I rail against old customs
For the bitterness they sow
In many contrary, and solitary bosoms
Cut off from root to grow
Alone in dark sadness, isolated by winds
That thresh them apart for common sins
My mother bore my sister, long time ago
In love and out of wedlock
Steep in traditions what did her father do
Reeling from the moral shock
He cast her out to stumble through the years
Feeding the rest of us on bitterness and tears
My grandfather was established, and well to do
With corn and cattle enough
To provide for kit and kin in weal and woe
She did not need his stuff
Only a loving arms around her, a voice kind
To comfort her heart, and give peace of mind.
But the isolation broke her so, and never again
Was she whole inside
And down she spiralled in her blight and pain
The shame in what she could not hide.
And still today in a very modern way
The rules remain forcing mothers to abort and pray
It takes a special kind of mettle that mother had
To bring a child against the rule
That covet to love and stamp the outcome bad
Must social laws be such a fool
Must lovers be so be so weak, to bear a child
And then it destroy it living falsely as undefiled.
|