Trauma In My Mother's House

"Trauma In my Mother's House" Some mornings came whispering in my mother's ears the torment of being a lady; It explained to her how by the kitchen knife she was meant to breathe only from a man’s pocket She was told that her tears undermine society & her body worth not even a cent from a man’s wallet, Because she is the object that cannot fit even in an empty set the door of my mother's head was opened by another strange voice, informing her that cooking is the degree she has earned naturally & that anything above it, is a sin beyond reality Situation has made her to see this world as a cooking kitchen; The aches from there is the comfort air she inhales without regretting In my mother's house, she is strong like the wind that comes before rainfall, Because she's the eagle that can withstand any downfall Her power is the milk that's capable of breastfeeding this lazy world & babysit any depression that wants to overcome her, Because her current life is the hell she is defeating very well. Poet: © Cheto