The Broken Rib Poem by Tracy Hedrick

I came from Adam.
My role defined
by the design of my flesh,
a scapegoat for misjudgment.
The property of man-
deemed an object
less valued than
items of trade-
given a name only
to lessen confusion
when the master calls.
Silence is the sound of my voice,
a slave to the ego
that forgets I am made
in the image of the mighty.
Gifted with the power
of creation,
it is I who enables his legacy to live-
who breeds immortality.
Awake, Adam, from your slumber,
Eve has broken free
from the shackles
of your debtor's prison
for your gift was not
heart, nor mind
nor soul, nor life-
it was only a rib.