This appears in a pre-2010 issue
of Down in the Dirt magazine.
Saddle-stitched issues are no longer
printed, but you can requesting it
“re-released” through amazon sale
as a 6" x 9" ISBN# book! Email us for re-release to order.
Fire seared through her limbs,
Acid rushed through her loins.
A doleful howl escaped her lips.
Like a leaf withered, warped with pain
She wretched and screamed like a dying bird
When the howls of babe mingled with hers
“It’s a girl!” She heard the nurse exclaim.
And a wave of dread burst in her head.
He wanted a son, an heir to his domain.
She shuddered and cast a forlorn glance,
At the angelic face of the whimpering girl.
Then looked into the harsh eyes of her man
Harsh eyes laced with ominous gloom,
Folds of frustration convulsing like doom,
“Your daughter,” a mutter died on her lips.
“A gift from God, that’s what she is.”
A forlorn glance he cast her way
Shook his head in marked disdain,
An unfit wife that’s what you are
A flawed vessel that’s what you are
Incapable of producing sons I want
This baggage of liability you call girl
I refuse to carry this burden of shame
Three girls in a row what have you done?
I need a boy to carry my name,
No, my name can’t end like this!
I want a son, and a son I will have.
Like a storm he raged out of the room,
Leaving in his wake a torrent of tears,
Withered, forlorn, she watched him leave,
Then turned and stared at the newborn’s rosy cheeks.
When will they learn the higher truth?
When will they see the secret divine?
Boy or girl each complements the other
Like fire and water, day and night,
Both are just two sides of time,
How many ages would come and pass,
Before this truth a man is taught?
A claw-like shadow gripped her heart.
He’d rejected the holy gift of God.
