From the time
I drew breath and clung
to the breast, I was hung
more surely than
a common criminal and what
Was my crime?
Early in the peace
You offered a chalice
You filled with malice
Poisoned chocolate so sweet
disguised the labour of hate
as you had the family feast.
One by one, the children died,
Little blond godly offspring
They laid down toys and things
As the deadly potion took hold
They curled up and grew cold
You watched and never even cried.
You wrote one last entry in your diary
'The day's gone and it is done.
All is lost except for one.'
She missed the sacrifice, the killing
I doubt she would have been willing
She may have guessed and been wary.
And yet, how does a mother willingly destroy
A child like some discarded toy?
That which she nurtured under her heart
For nine months until a living being is thrust
Into life, to grow and grow
And yet, how does a mother ever destroy
even one girl or one boy
Let alone six?