"Child Support," A Poetry Post

Any time you force a man to
reach into his pocket and
put what he has into a  tryst
in which he has no interest,
there will be violent bitterness and
rejection.

If he's declared what he will do,
and that entails him leaving you,
and leaving all with whom he has to do,
then what recourse is there?

He has made peace with the idea.
It does not matter that a year or two ago
there was some piece,
some semblance of a love affair.

It does not matter that
nine months or
ten years or
fifteen years ago there was a
product of his very loin and soul
introduced into our world.

If he has deemed it right to
withdraw himself, wholly,
from the responsibility of
maintaining his family,
you musn't then force
his support.

In love he may have been a breeze;
in hate that man will be a beast.

Do not believe the words of them who
chased and charged and chained their men by
standing in the courts of law
berating them.

The passion lasts only a while and
takes away your very smile.
Not only will it bruise your mind;
it will destroy the jewel,
the child.

If he has made his choice to go,
the process will be rough, I know,
but if you have to lose a limb,
it's best to cut it clean.

You can't go through life hanging on,
attempting to rethread the sinews of this muscle,
bandaging up the broken bone and
treading gingerly to avoid jostling your
detached member.

You musn't give a running wolf
the hand of your infant.

Close in your fences and be mended within.

Forget him and his existence.

Be free.

-T. D. James-Moss