Fear turning to sweat
As it drips down my face
Her eyes like daggers, clutching at my child
Upon her face is the rotten core
Of a cold hearted contempt
‘For what I have worked so hard to give birth to,
She scoffs at what is before her
Such a useless, untalented thing
She mutters
The criticism of my baby is almost more than I can bear
And yet as I hold back the tears,
Those threaten to drench my face
I look once more,
Into this demons eyes
Her vicious glamour has lifted
And there stands a woman who once gave birth to me
Holding the papers I have given birth to
Her devil hearted criticisms pierce my heart
But once I truly look at her,
And see what a pathetic
Old thing she has become
I take the papers back
And smile
For the demon in my path means nothing
My words mean more than hers