Was this the apple then, your mother’s breast,
Which father thought was his to oft caress?
And when, in deprived rage, you bit to test
In return, he vowed to ever you harass.
At this, you learned that you could hate as well,
For punishment struck blows to your small heart.
Your memory, since wordless, could not tell;
Though pain and anguish made your soft skin smart.
As unknown as the journey to your birth.
As shocking as the grief of unmeant wrong..
As frightening as the gauging of your worth
As sudden as the ending of a song.
Impossible to foretell or to prepare,
The dangers to our breaking hearts lie there
How my heart sings 