Counsel

Sometimes I rail against old customs For the bitterness they sow In many contrary, and solitary bosoms Cut off from root to grow Alone in dark sadness, isolated by winds That thresh them apart for common sins My mother bore my sister, long time ago In love and out of wedlock Steep in traditions what did her father do Reeling from the moral shock He cast her out to stumble through the years Feeding the rest of us on bitterness and tears My grandfather was established, and well to do With corn and cattle enough To provide for kit and kin in weal and woe She did not need his stuff Only a loving arms around her, a voice kind To comfort her heart, and give peace of mind. But the isolation broke her so, and never again Was she whole inside And down she spiralled in her blight and pain The shame in what she could not hide. And still today in a very modern way The rules remain forcing mothers to abort and pray It takes a special kind of mettle that mother had To bring a child against the rule That covet to love and stamp the outcome bad Must social laws be such a fool Must lovers be so be so weak, to bear a child And then it destroy it living falsely as undefiled.