Our souls remember infancy, the crib
Confining us in safety, mother's breast
A source of food and safety where our warmth
Resided--we remained her favored guest.
And slowly from this comfort we emerged
Into a place of play and isolation,
Connections made and not ensured, where love
Is earned and life becomes a cold frustration.
And when we face frustration we all long
For arms, the lap, the crib where we were kept
In safety--we all long for one who would
Take care of us, protect us as we slept.
Alas, that mother is long dead for us--
And we are Hansel, Gretel, Cinderella,
Snow White--a litany of fairy tales
Where mother is replaced by Bella.
Cruel Bella Donna promises she'll take
Good care of you--that she will soon replace
Your mother--she will feed you pudding, cake
And slowly poison you into a vase.
And you will love her as your lips turn blue
And thank her as you shiver in your bed
Because she keeps you warm and keeps you fed,
Though everything she does ensures you're dead.