Saturday, 25 August 2007

"Where do all the dead babies go ..

Where do all the dead babies go?
In some bright garden my son runs free
Laughs and plays with all the others
that were never meant to be
I wonder if he remembers
Gently stirring in my womb before -
And if it hurt him as much as it hurt me, or more?
I want him never to know, never to miss
A mother's touch, a mother's kiss.
For one day I may hold his sister or brother,
But he can never have another mother.

(Written on Jan 17th Sat. 1987, 9:50 pm.)

In case you are wondering, I have never been pregnant.

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