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Poetry
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| The old pram | |
| By meadowcroft1964 | ||||||
| 26 September 2008 | ||||||
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The pram now abandoned and old Once the symbol of her dreams untold Stands empty long gone to rust Has she who now turns to dust I who it was once intended for Grasps at it's image with all my will I can see it now when in it's glory The Rolls Royce of silver cross It once represented a small fortune Now both a comfort and a tool of torture Comfort comes with the knowledge that Such a item only accompanies love Torture rears up to replace When what's been lost I'm forced to face So much unacknowledged love So much left understood Mother and daughter denied their right Forced to hide behind ethical shit Because of the times then when Being born illegitimate extingished all rights
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