What have I done

A sad poem was writen for a dear friend..

I often dream of him,who never lived. That unborn
son conceived but gone, before the time was long
enough for him to grasp a newborn cry.

I have a vision of a son so tall and strong. Who smiles
at me and calls me mom. Remembering, I imagined
to recall some prank denied, with honest eyes of blue,
and a childish smile so loving.

But still sometimes at dusk when Iam all alone, I
wish that other son had lived and was fully grown
walking this whirling earth, so I could sometimes hear
his voice call me "MOM".

He lives forever in my heart secret, part of my inner
soul. One fact I know for sure when my work is done,
somewhere I'll find my other son. Please, forgive me for
what I have done, for at the time I understood no other way.


Uniquelady