|Sep. 2nd, 2005 09:09 am|
Lost in this swirling whirling world.Leave a comment
Angry black woman unleased as poverty
has taken it's toll. As addictions, as
violence, as despair, mount in the hearts
of those I love. My dearest daughter of
love was raped twice by my son of love.
She was forced to have an abortion, so my
infertile ass had to sit in that clinic
with twenty women who are blessed with
the ability to get pregnant but cursed with
the wrong circumstance and timing.
My baby girl wasn't ready for the abortion,
she wasn't ready to see her baby in a cup
on the counter. Which in reality is
probably placenta, but to her, it was her
baby. DNA evidence collected from the aborted
fetus to prosecute the rapist I have loved
since he was in diapers. She said her soul
is dead, gone forever. We wept together as
I told her it was from the pain, and that
it wasn't dead. I pray I wasn't lying to her.
Pieces of us do die when we withstand the