"A Message to My Son," A Poetry Post

Young son,
for centuries
men would do
anything
to get their children
educated.

Men would sit down in
clay and
draw out sundials to
teach their children
time.

Men would sketch out
logograms and abstract lines for
alphabets to
teach their children
reason.

They would slave in mud and straw to
teach their children
constructs.

They would give their lives to
teach their children
faith.

Innocent men would
stand before judges and
be hanged to
teach their children
dignity
in the face of
inequality.

Wretched men would
give up their freedom to
steal bread in order to
teach their children
responsibility
in the face of
desperation.

Wicked men would
verbally and physically
abuse their working servants to
teach their children
brutality in the
interest of
promoting market success.

And I son am no different,
being a woman.

I must be as hard, as stalwart,
as dignified, as desperate,
as responsible, as restrained,
as wise and as wily
in this life
for both of us.

I must give all that I have
to get you
educated.

And I cannot apologize for that.
Not.
Ever.

-T.D. James-Moss