the mix

Alienate the child and keep in mind her difference.
Your own blood and kind but still not quite.
Pick up her inadequacy and be proud of your purity
Marvel at her, the circus act.

She's not like you, untainted as you are.
Diluted. She's nothing more than a chink in your pedigree,
The acid on the proud photograph, the merging of two tributaries.
You shudder in fear for her future:
The dog left in the window,
The unwanted stray roaming the streets.

Poor poor mongrel child.