Blinding lights, hushing sounds, the blood red curtain unfold
upon a story often untold
a tale of a mother, woven in lackluster gold
The convoluting pain of the womb is a mother's to bear
so is the child's first cry, first fall
A child's world is coloured a rainbow
with paint drawn from a mother's dreams
wanting a career is selfish, wanting an identity worse
reduced to a single word, she must bear
she bears it all she does, for her little flame
she hopes will burn bright against the blowing winds
knowing it can never be hers to keep
as the wick will be the father's
as it is his name the child must bear.
The child's shortcoming drags a mother down
as it is her shame, she must bear
A child's first mistake, is not the failure of the father
or their grandmother or grandfather
it taints a mother as a woman of loose morals
as it is her child, she must bear
