Be still, ye angry daughter of my soul;
And listen to the words upon my heart.
For ye misunderstand thy mother’s goal;
And to this ye have set us far apart.
Upon the lips of she who spoke unknown,
Ye punish her with bitterness and pain.
A hatred in thy heart - so acrid, sewn,
Belies the very essence of thy blame.
Oh heart be still and realize one’s flaws,
Embedded in the pleasantest of Man;
Can sometimes break the unrequited laws,
Of she who tries the very best she can.
Make haste to comprehend why ye cry foul -
Augment how ye construe and disavow.
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