In the dead of night she births a son.
Prays he won’t do evil unto one.
The product of her body’s nurture,
Will his innocence go further
Than his juvenile days,
Or will he take his father’s ways?
Or will he take his father’s ways?
Even when she was racked with violence
Her body betrayed her fight for sense.
From such an act of violation
Her womb converted to creation.
Gendered roles, for when men take,
A woman can still make.
If desecration is the prerogative of he.
Earth’s blessing is pure. It is she.
Love the words, well done rob, so when you gonna perform it at w4w?
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