Thursday, May 10, 2012
Broken mothers
Broken hearts
of broken mothers,
broken wings
of cemetery angels.
Broken hearts
of poor mothers
and the babies
are for sale.
The babies from
poor cribs
to their own rooms
full of toys,
with a good school,
good food,
vacation abroad,
great carriers,
stop from time to time
in a quiet moment
and they ask:
Who am I?
Where did I come from?
Sometimes is better
do not know.
Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville,2/2012
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