Are you aware? she asked,
Crushing me beneath her steely blue stare.
Can’t you spare a thought —
Even better, a dollar?
Pity those poor lost children.
Think how hard it is for the parents,
Always wishing, hoping, praying for a
Normal child, a normal life.
Can you imagine the pain
I can imagine the pain, I respond.
Such an absence of love would hurt any child.
Looked at constantly as if broken, seen
Only as the wreckage of what might have been,
Viewed as a millstone around the neck.
Excuse me if I don’t accept your hatred.