What is it that makes, a women a mother
Is it coming to her son, lying under cover
Is it the rending of flesh, if he refuses to please
Is it at his young age, and his size she does tease
Is it how she tells him, this will make you a man
Is it making him feel, as low as she can
Is it beating his flesh, with belts, sticks, and wire
Is it punishing the truth , and calling him a liar
Is it running her fingers, through the hair on your head
Is it knowing that night, she will come to your bed
Is it locking your arms, under both of her knees
Is it her sexual desires, she makes you appease
Is it making you fear, each day of your life
Is it making you feel, your mom is your wife
Is it making you take, the trash to the bin
Is it making you want, to follow it in
Is it the guilt you will feel, for the rest of all time
This may not be yours, but this mother was mine