She, a poem by Chrystal Wanstall
They whispered meekly.
‘She’ll not be welcomed,’
They smiled sweetly.
Cursed and tainted,
She claimed her mother’s heart.
‘She’ll not belong here,’
Her mother said with care,
‘She who will be, will be.’
She’ll be unloved.
She’ll be… alone.’
And with her final breath,
Her mother rose up with all her might.
Her voice rumbled.
‘She’ll not be defined by your labels.’
The earth trembled.
They all fell silent.
‘She’ll raise your children as her own.’
They bowed their heads in that final moment.
And She would be loved.
For the cycle will go on and on.