On Parenting, Sometimes
The pain of a child
who has forgotten cheers
behind teetering footfall,
hands held into sleep
tears kissed into laughter
and monsters banished by embrace
the pain of words rendered machete sharp
carry death more sure than malignancy
We spill blood for our children
we want a fat life
so we give, naively
expecting kindness from the universe
in the form of a smile
or some small affection
but instead of the cosmic greeting card
that we picture while waiting
with open veins
we get a blade
or worse, nothing
It would be sad to watch
tear shed when parting
when filling with pride
or agonizing over taunts
missed balls, lost friends
Humans prefer to hide sad things
A child doesn’t see the empty pockets
that actually fill their world
or the youth that was bartered
for their opportunities
The pain is never intended
it grows resplendent in hidden recesses
it doesn’t need sun or water
or venom
It exists because we will it when
we wake to hungry cries
we will it when we trade trinkets
with demons to keep them at away
From the moment we conceive
we let our blood
and fade away
Copyright © Roseann Geiger | Year Posted 2017
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