The brave Motherhood

All the good guys as same as the stale ones
You bring to this unfair world hardly.
In the mysterious watery womb you never train them to make wars or behead the brotherhood?
Your precious heart is a scripture Mom!
The only weakness I see is the unlimited love.
A sculptor may carve a crystalline beautiful woman
But never a skinny mother?
She lives in every heart like a child.
This innocent child one day becomes a saint or a criminal in this unscrupulous society.

(Suicide; O river, I see drifting deep in your flux of silver
Those great Goddesses of peace
stone, stone, ferry me down there.)
Sylvia Plath, Lorlei

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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