I never

saw you come into the world,

or pee into the midwife's eye,

or have your arse smacked merrily

to bring your first breath on, or cry,

or dry your tears, or hide my own,

or feel protective rage come on

when careless strangers crossed your path

in infancy, in innocence;

I never felt the urge to kill, for you;

 

..saw if your life was coloured beige

all greyed and dulled and pewter-mugged

all clawed and pocked by pointlessness

all buttoned, coiled and British;

 

or if its hue was raging red

all mottled by hilarity,

gracious kind loquacity,

all wine and gentle chaos;

 

..bit my tongue and lip as one

assaulted by your Mother's tongue

when laying out her plans for you

like moving for a better school

or her take on religion;

 

I never kept you clean and warm,

or had the chance

to keep you safe from harm.