There are no flowers or epitaphs,
they stamp on steel, nor jewels cut,
or petals fallen on fate's path,
but only poison in hate's gut.

And yet no man is singly blamed,
because its birth is surely named.
Of this I'm sure I will repent.
and I'll expunge it from my tent.

No child of mine will ever know,
nor will it in hate's garden grow.
For all men need to bear this ark,
that turns away hate's biased mark.

It reigns supreme in poor men's souls,
that they should bear both mark and blame,
And no vaccines can cure this shame.
when children's hearts endure sin's scrolls.

R.Owen 2/05/2022