|The Cradle of Life
Author: James Rain PM
The story of the war so far. This isn't the title, but it is the first line.Rated: Fiction K - English - Tragedy/Drama - Words: 260 - Reviews: 5 - Published: 05-22-04 - id: 1616347
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The cradle of life
Is coated with lead paint
Poisoning the Infant Popular,
Death seeping, burrowing into
her fair skin, deception disorders poised
to arise for her fragile, imminent adolescence.
The poor thing is premature,
Birthed out of rape,
Fathered by the sperm of war.
The fertility of the land
A weary race can adopt the lost little girl.
A forcibly aged boy, hopelessly branded Mr. Gunpowder,
Can see her though blinded in one eye,
His half-world shrouded in the shadow of a doubt.
The child's future is in many hands…
The gruff, calloused hands of the overlords
The smooth, opportune hands of the critic
The curled, fist like hands of the rival
The scarred, arthritic hands of the tied,
And what of the hands of God?
Shall He suffocate Her, or empower Her?
Shall He embrace Her, or leave Her in the
Charred grave of those who fought for Her?
How do we expect her to find
Her voice, when all she hears
Is the language of violence?
The end of life a familiar backdrop
In the desert environs of ancient Babylon,
It citizens balancing dangerously
Until arriving at Enough and they turn their backs with finality
To the Infant's graceless protectorate.
Reduced to a face on a banner,
Her body and soul are mishandled and disassembled
On the behalf of ammunition.
The problems of this pregnancy never anticipated
By Her surrogate father.
It seems the Infant was an afterthought…
This poor lost little girl.