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The nurse said maybe
you should sing him a lullabye,
and she hisses like a garden snake.
Singing will just keep him awake.
She held me like
a piece of broken precious glass,
out away from her.
So she could put me back on the shelf,
if I made any motion.
So I stayed perfectly still.
The nurse said maybe
you should hold him to your breast.
And she glares at the other mothers.
And says there's no sense,
in giving a young boy ideas.
She held me like
a piece of broken precious glass,
out from her.
So she could put me back on the shelf,
if I made any motion.
So I stayed perfectly still.
But when the nurse
was gone away,
she sat me up like an old man.
And told me a story, about a woman who wanted,
more than just glass and ludlabyes,
more than just worn out rocking chairs.
Then she sang me
her favorite song,
about a soldier
who was dying to wed.
Who knew nothing of love.
Who didn't know
anything of love.
Then she held me like a piece of broken precious glass,
out away from herself.
So she could put me, back on the shelf,
if I made any motion.
So I stayed perfectly still.
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