poetry · political

A Hidden Reality

Between midnight walks
and toddler naps
I turn down the night
as I play the waiting game
in a room full of mothers
all swallowing our pride.

Every woman has a story
that carried her here
desperately in need

many are young and naive
unaware of the deal
about to be made
under the blanket of poverty.

I remember when it was me
new to the system
completely naïve to its order
now I’m not that far away
just older and wiser
but still a mother
struggling in need.

© River 2013

An old poem I dug up and revised

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