Feeling rotten- like the bottom of a boot that had just trod-on-
a muddy paddock splattered with bovine faeces-
she stomached the anxiety- growing ever so defiantly-
little choice but to prolong her wounded song-

For her focus was to muster all the strength that she could usher-
towards accepting the separation-
of battered mother from unfaithful father- 
oh how she longed to forgo her creation-

The End

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