Friday, December 04, 2009


You riddle your daughter with daggers, her flesh with salt, her spirit with darkness. You smother the life of her child with your judgement, you eviscerate the memory of her mother with your forked scalpel of a tongue. You riddle your daughter with daggers.

You Poison your sons with your genetic promise, their dreams with your guilt, and their sons with your toil. You tear from them any hope of a harbor, any semblance of peace. You poison your sons with everything.

In reply, your sons and daughters, they stake your heart with their knives. They bring down your house with mockery of your counterfeit love.

J M Prater

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home