It's funny cloth, this fabric made of life.
The weave is quite irregular, with lumps,
And also shortages-- a kiss, a knife,
And music-- it's so tribal!-- bangs and thumps.
Thus, everyone's connected-- you know me,
And in our primal mindsets we're the same,
But if there is some big catastrophe,
Not everyone will hold the burden-- shame!
Oh, I will feel, but will I feel alone?
All wrapped up in my mother's quilt, fetal--
I'm hiding! but the others just postpone--
They have no guilt! for we are varietal!
The stitches, and the weave, may haunt the tracks
Of my sewing machine, but I still have all my facts,
And my dignity!
Author notes
How different are we all when we look hard!
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