You have to earn the title,
like a marathon runner, even if your lack of a womb
takes all the weight off for you to start with.
Then comes the mess. The pain,
the screaming, the exhaustion.
And there you fell at the first hurdle.
You could not support your family
from your seat at the bar, missed the mark
but your fists hit home well with our girl in my arms
and I can’t begin to imagine your reasons
for being so lax with your effort, I mean it
you’re not enough for her, never were
So leave us alone
You’re not up to the work.