Away He Went My grief is a vine, strangling my heart Locked in an inaccessible vault I can’t feel it directly, it’s so repressed But I know that it’s there, never been addressed It comes out overtly, I’m clinically depressed Who planted the seed, which grew the vine? The devil himself, when he took what was mine Four babies lost to abortion, dead before their time Oh, the devil grinned as I gave consent To have my children killed, I could smell his scent And he took my joy and away he went Rebecca White
Subscribe to get access to all online articles
Already a member?
Sign in to read this article
Digital Subscription
$98 / YR
Get the latest ideas from Australia’s most insightful writers.
- Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
Printed & Digital Subscription
$118 / YR
For avid readers of leading ideas
from Australia’s brightest.
- Printed & Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.