there are clouds
right above her scalp
hanging this low
as to freeze her sense
th bright have fled
to the east and west
oh th green pastures they seek
a desert they leave her
the eagles come flying
with banners of aid and funding
veils of heavy shackles
that burden even the unborn
with no one to turn to
she eats her own
just to keep up the zeal
devoured by their rejection
but she holds a foetus
alive and bouncing
awaiting a midwife call
to arouse all around her
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