Your husband gets on top of you as if
He’s going to pray
You lie there frozen stiff
Nothing else to do or say;
The rocking motion only reminds you of
Your immortal schooldays when
Boys tore your knickers off
And injected you with sweet pain …
 
People like you are all the same
You start with the best of intentions
Family tradition is chiefly to blame
And cowardice …  which no-one mentions;
Your father’s disease and your mother’s poison
Were inherited by you while still in the womb
And in turn you’ll be taught to pass them on
Your children too must be buried alive in the family tomb …
 
All your material possessions
Have bought you security
All your empty exhibitions
Earn my hateful pity;
You were never brave enough
To cut the cord and fly
You rejected the boy who gave you love
Now your heart must wither and die.

(c) Satori Publishing, 2013.