Spoken word poem by Alice Mulvaney
Mother smiled at six month grown bump,
Sang of melodies pure and true.
Everything's gunna be alright,
I'm gunna make sure you ain't blue.
Father taught about music
Supported all I could do.
Tried to make him proud of me.
I'm pretty proud of him too.
They dealt with my tantrums
And all my teenage stops.
My default was angry,
Wait for hormones to stop.
Being raised by them
Made me want one thing.
To be a mother.
Her knowledge I'll bring.
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