I saw a mother breastfeeding,
She had love in her body
But glass in her eyes.
As if this food giving ritual
Was nothing more than a dumbshow.
How do we decide
What love and hate are?
Is there an answer or a question?
And will there be an end?
The baby content, he drifts off,
The mother tucks her teet away.
Wearily she leaves the place
No doubt destined for home.
Where dirty dishes and
An alcoholic husband await.
I saw a mother breastfeeding,
But there was glass in her eyes.
Mathew Lewis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/glass-in-her-eyes/
