I have already said too much poetry
about you; cries and lies, all your glee;
How am I, in my humblest self,
to call upon your weariness, color your elf.
Ugly and broken, destitute you may appear,
hospital wars, and divorce papers you saw clear
the crib was made of straw
limp and weak you have grown
sour milk you have drawn
shouts you heard, your baby rattles
yet food was in silver platter.
As interesting as they can see;
you're still finding for your great leap.
- Danica Ann Niegas
(first published on facebook notes, dated July 27, 2015)
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