She says she has words
plentiful in a vocabulary of Welsh,
I cannot content with
vowels and concepts spoken,
in my language another language-
passion rages beneath the fine veneer
of motherly attributes,
if she were astute wisdom
it would lead a merry path
past our (un)holy vision
I have birthed one
long desire to give others a sense
of freely available oxygen,
are there drugs that alleviate
such sentiments,
I heard her annoyance and relinquished
control to another-
here is my power
take me.
I have suffered and suffer
indigenous cramps of native
blades and humorous felinity,
here seeps substance
of women.
I have failed and fucked
twenty eight moments,
only one leading to this-
hope fails me ,
he will see
persecution.
So I say,
she has my eyes
they are filthy-
I thought you would lead her
towards other paths,
dreaming you would not make
another women
in my own image.
Copyright: Samantha Ledger 2011
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