you could have throttled my neck
thrown me in the garbage dump
stealthily silently I would have gone
you had the right to kill me your first born
I would have gone back to the maker
tell him his creation is world full of scorn
no I would rather be unborn. and I have
sworn never to come back again
darkness at dawn..oh mother for
your martyred misplaced motherhood
i mourn..how i hate to see you begging
on and on..your face i know tears
glistening as a coin hits your humility
your womanhood your fate tattered torn
why did you not leave me at the gates
of the church believer of the book
according to the Gospel of St John
