Having raised five,
five too many
with her two little hands
and toiling still
through the perturbingly prolonged
ageing of her husband
Not one of them
has a life carved around her
or a reason to remember her for no reason
The husband who was never there
continues to be absent
in his insipid presence
Did she sign up for this?
What's it about being a mother
that ever makes sense?
Not so much about birthing
being a mother is of choosing
one's ceasing to be
as an individual entity.
Returns on investing in parenting
continue to be dismally frustrating
And yet,
here we are exploding,
encumbering mother nature
with seven billion too many.
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