My last poem was about her
The one who carries
The burden of human kind
Literally speaking human kind
And their kindness

The destruction they cause
The sins they perform
Loot and the rot

She kneels
Every night
(Whenever it happens
And wherever it happens)
And mutters
‘When do I get rid of this junk?’
Prays folding herself
Occasionally as if churning
Her interiors
And resurrecting
The life within

She looks at every new born
With hope and love
To recognize the protector
And to rejoice


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