She went to the doctor knowing something was amiss

At 47 it started with a kiss

Over half a lifetime spent

Rehearsing the words her mother spoke

Soul crumbling with every cruel joke

She never knew a father’s care

A few missed cycles, some fatigue, nausea here and there

She didn’t know what it all meant

The simple test showed the double lines

The doctor shared the news and it blew her mind

“How can this be?,” she asked

Her face was a mix of shock and remorse

The doctor responded, “Do you have support?”

She shook her head

“Me and the father had barely met”

She shrugged, nonchalant

Her phone started ringing a vulgar tune

Singing of drugs, rape, and prostitutes

She answered with her long fingernails

Told the person on the phone, “Positive – he doesn’t need to know the details.”

The ultrasound showed a glowing seed

Swimming about with a heartbeat

“I don’t want it,” the woman said

As the sound of gunshots rang in her head

The doctor had given an oath to do no harm

She watched the screen as that child moved his arms

Flesh, a soul, a life – so much more than cells

From two others so casual

A man who would never know his own

A woman whose conscience had flown

How unusual

“There is help,” said the doctor

The woman had the baby – a baby born on amphetamines

But alive, screaming

The mother walked out of the hospital right away

Carried on with her typical day

Feeding on lyrics that devalue life, eating all she’d ever known

One day some years later she got so down

Believed she was what she heard

All the men in her phone only left her hurt

She crept away and pulled out a needle

Completely unaware of all the people nearby

A mom and her son walked through that park

Saw a woman hard asleep – one among a few

A little later the City came through

Yellow tape went up and a white bag came out

The metal stretcher too

The mom told her son, “I love you, son, you are awesome”

Her heart was heavy, he didn’t understand the scene

His mother feared he’d soon learn what it means

A few days later that mom was at work flipping through the charts

One of a 55-year-old woman dead

The cause was the LAD of her heart

Clogged by drugs, just like her brain

And all those poisonous words that had caused so much pain

She closed the book and then her eyes

This was the woman she’d treated eight years ago

What a surprise

Then a tap at the door

“Mom, let’s get lunch,” said the kid

“I have a bunch to tell you,” she replied

Over lunch she told him his biological mother had died

But there were also two men at the table: the boy’s adoptive father and his biological father

He felt love, no alarm

Intention, flesh, life

The doctor prayed and worked so he wouldn’t be harmed

The boy grew – he ran, laughed, loved, and swam

By the gift of life she was charmed