This Woman’s day
Does Man remember?
That from a woman
Emerged he, the Man?
Does he remember?
When his cocoon broke
And her waters flowed
She was flooded with pain
That she ever believed
Would be in vain?
No, how could he?
He is a man. He is main.
He took his time
First in her womb
Then at her breast
Then on her lap,
And never let her rest
Till she was content
She had done ample
Or he had had enough.
But the woman, she doesn’t mind,
The daily grind, or his heartless mind,
The woman can-not
Unknot the ties that bind.
Once lost in her shadow
He now has his own
It eclipses her sun
And the woman,
She lets it go.
It’s no longer fun.
But to her woe
He’s a man
He wants more.
He smothers it,
Tramples it and finally
Destroys it.
This woman’s day
Does Man remember?
That from a woman
Emerged he, the Man?
And from that woman
Will never emerge
Another Man?
No, he doesn’t,
No, he won’t
Or maybe he will,
With flowers and gifts
He’ll hide the rift?
