The darkness delivers no rest. Will they remove my baby?
Can lawyers mould my words to their will?
A crest of the lion and unicorn rests above the judge's head.
Look, even they turn their heads away.
The man in a wig says my child needs a true mother, a forever home.
In truth, I am his mother. My arms are his home.
The eyes of witnesses roll like waves.
They watch and talk about me as if they were there.
Words flow over my head and I am cut off.
A mother's voice is hissed through the teeth of men.
I am called to the stand.
His lawyer hurls questions at me like stones from a sling
And I need tissues because my sleeve is not enough.
Believe me, I have the heart of a Queen.
