A Mother's Sonata Poem by Jacqueline Franklin

Her fingers are bleeding and the blood is dripping down

Her arms and off of her elbows into the mouths

Of hungry children whose last names are the same as

The woman whose blood they drain.


And they smile up to her as they gulp her wine. It's the

Kind of thing that happens all of they time. They are

Rushing to finish their feast up before

She can finally die.


And, oh! What a joy to be a Mother!

What a joy to be loved and adored!

To have children who love one another

And love their Mother, whose love they adore!


Well, the gravity's closing in on her. She cannot stay

On her feet for very much longer now can she?

They lick their lips as they see her fall down to her

Knees and curl up on her side.


Do they know that she loves them with all of her heart,

And would die hap'ly to see they aren't torn apart

By the world with it's claws and it's teeth and it's bloodlust that

Seeks after all innocence?


But, oh! What a joy to be a Mother!

What a joy to be loved and adored!

To have children who love one another

And love their Mother, whose love they adore!


She can feel her heart stopping. Her eyeballs are popping right

Out of their sockets just from the sheer shock of the

Realization that she is about to meet

The one true Maker of Life.


As her organs shut down and her fingers grow cold,

She discovers that she is quite suddenly bold and she

Does not need any more aid or company to

Keep her... she is free.


Oh! She has been a good Mother!

She has done all she was meant to do!

She has given her life to another,

That the Other might one day Live, too.