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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1737216
A father denied
Eight weeks

It’s a plan, not an attempt.
We are going to do this.
So happy, so in love.
The joining of our love,
to create a new family,
a new line.
It’s a plan, not an attempt.
We have done this.
So happy, so in love,
each day anew.
The possibilities, the potential,
the wonders to come.
So happy, so in love,
what more could we ask for.
It was a plan, not an attempt.
We did it,
but it wasn’t meant to be.
Too small, no beating of the heart.
So sad, but still in love,
each day hurting anew.
Our first, not to be,
will forever be in our hearts.
Our baby,
never denied,
just not meant to be.
So sad, so in love,
we plan, not attempt.
It will be.
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