The Push

A gust of life
Born to tread a unique journey,
So your mother thought.
Pushed out of her womb
To fill the room with your tiny wails
And hushed whispers outside the room.
Mixed emotions await you,
You’ll soon know.
When they see your color, and your sex
And may be not in that order
Tears and blood have borne fruit
But these shall come to knot.
And your mother’s fate shall slowly unfurl
When they see, you are merely a girl.