Carrying the Child to Term
Impossible, you say?
A man cannot be pregnant?
A man cannot carry a child?
But there he sits, ravished,
A child himself when made to
Endure the act to create life.
He carries the seed of man in him.
A man-child allowing the fruit
Of the union to grow.
And for the life of him,
Doesn't know what to do.
Can he abort, kill this thing?
This product of love gone wrong.
Yet it's a life, a part of him.
Grown for years and years, not months.
But it's the result of hatred, abuse.
He knows he will hate it. Despise it.
For the rest of its life (however
Long that might be). A lifetime
Of sorrows awaits this child-of-a-child
Now left in the care of a man who
Wishes it gone.
Look at it, perhaps that gives the answer.
It is his son, no question, but also the
Son of the man who sired and abandoned him.
There is such rage and hurt in that boy's eyes.
He will grow up to be a monster.
(Just like his father!)
Waiting to explode his rage on another
Unsuspecting child, waiting to bring in
Another damaged life to the world.
Why allow it to do this? Why allow him to
Suffer rejection? It's better this way.
But the child's features are on him too.
Senstive face, trusting heart. Lord,
He is that child born anew. Is it his
Fault that he was born of hate, not love?
He is wounded, but he has a future
Apart from what created him. So much
Potential, so much capacity for healing.
Look, he reaches out! So many reasons not
to, what created him, what made him, and
Still he reaches out. Still wants to love.
He has a chance that the man-child never had.
The man, the "mother," holds his child close.
Feels the breath of life on his skin.
Yes, a result of hate, abuse, misguided love.
But he has much to offer.
To everyone, even the wounded man who
Hugs him to his heart. So much to give.
What does it matter who the father is?
What the father did? There is future and
Hope in what he holds. Hope for others.
Hope for himself. That is reason enough to
Bring about a change in what was done.
Peace and love,
There are reasons I'm taking medication. They're called "other people." - Me, displaying my anti-social tendancies