Momma ! Stop! Don’t do it!
Momma ! Stop! Don’t do it!
Her scream tore through the
fraying fabric of a life
already lived as a less than.
Evil rose up and the women
carried on, carrying on the devil’s work to
parody a full life given by God
cut and sculpted by humanity.
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Goodness arose and opposed the demon
of mutilating flesh
laws, enforced badly, scarred
the mother’s destructiveness.
They turned on tiny babies.
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The tender, soft cheeked
mouth searching for sustenance,
too young to scream.
Now tears carving streaks
on downy baby skin
as they cruelly carved away
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her sexuality, and give her
a life of pain. Curled in on herself,
seeking a protecting womb,
weeping tears that streamed down onto
a blood smeared mattress,
her mouth mewling for
a tiny form mutilated for life.
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