Neal Freeland Poet Prose Poetry

Scorned

The old mother
She lays her head down and she sighs
Her eyes close
She’s growing tired
So tired

Still
There is within her
The strength of heart
To rise up and smash us
To crush us
To burn us
To rip and tear us apart
And drown us all
In her rage
Her tears

For we are all to blame
All of us
Not just one race
But all
For when we didn’t fight
Hard enough
When we didn’t fight at all
And when we didn’t listen
And when we
Didn’t heed her cries
As we raped her
We were killing her too

And maybe
Maybe
This mother
Won’t turn the other cheek
Maybe she’ll bash our skulls in
Maybe she’ll kill all of her children
Because we’re all ungrateful
And maybe
Maybe
Mother Earth will just
Die

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