the scraped uterus of her non-mother is screaming
life so quickly taken from its walls
a greenhouse full of future dreaming
innocent seedling dead before she's grown.
hey mother, how could you do this?
I should not be made of ash so soon
the stars have brought me to you
from the love that you have shown.
be I born from not such love
and from my daddy's ravished lies
I'm not ugly, I'm your child
I am made from you; I have your eyes.