She’s barely thirty
Mother to eight - a ninth on the way
She considered birth control
But with whom would she play
One baby’s daddy was murdered
One stays busy planting his seed
He’s indifferent to his son's truancy
And urgent psychological need
One papa is on methadone maintenance
Another's eligible for parole in fifteen
One’s cuddled behind a dumpster
Moans as he sleeps - and wakes with a scream
Three babies’ daddies live pillar to post
Borrowing from Peter - paying Paul late
Their daughters' calls go unanswered
Weekend visits - too difficult to make
We have all that we need
Says the Mother of eight – soon nine
I have my children’s “income”
And get them to school half the time
Yes, their Medicaid has lapsed
And no, I cannot fill their prescriptions
But it was the government’s error
So they can shove their contrition
Send the parenting aid away
My home thrives in disorder
If Your Honor disagrees
Do a pick up Order
Now eight brothers and sisters
Have no reason to roam
They sleep soundly in four beds
Across three foster homes
Like emerging butterflies
Their wings cautiously unfold
They’ve been given tomorrow
Their wingspan yet untold
I can't wait for Mom to see us
Just look at how we've grown
She'll shower us with kisses
And then she'll take us home
First printed as "Emerging Butterflies" on Waxing Lyrical at Elovitz@blogspot.com on April
25, 2011
