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by xaahida

Little one
I fought for you
when bullies raged
against your sweetness,
your loneliness,
your delight.

My fists answered them
No!
This is a precious child.

I’m not proud of my violence
It was needed.
There was no one else
to keep you safe.

Now the bully called cancer
threatens you
and my fists are powerless
by my sides.

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