Therapy 19.5.25
To be unbelieved
Wills wounds on young women
Weaves webs around wonder
Works walls,
Wires whimsy into weariness
Forces grown up thoughts
Into young girls’ minds
With no libraries, no shields.
No swords.
When I think of all I will have to say and
Share with my daughters
Lamentations, songs of praise
Rituals of war and peace
I can’t help but mourn
All I had to learn, alone
With no gentle goddess to teach
Or wise warrior to protect
Me.