Fred Babbin

(1925 / Chicago)

My Child


My child, my child,
My beautiful child
You are beautiful
because you are a child.
All children are beautiful

But
The Universe has pressed you
and twisted you
into hate, into a demon of hate,
and drugged you
so you won't feel the pain

So you chew me up
and spit me out
because you are the Tiger,
behaving as Tigers do.
You cannot do differently.

And being spit, I suffer.
But there is nothing
we can do,
for the Universe speaks.
And having spoken,
From this we take our cue..

Submitted: Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Edited: Friday, February 01, 2008

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