Saturday, March 15, 2014


Worse than accident
Not a mistake
Rather a crime
The purpose of love lost
In the screams of one's lust
Brutal power decided
The seed planted in anger
And never again could she trust
Because now she bore the cost
9 months of waiting
For the harvest of that crime
Ignored when it came out
And it grew in time
A bitter reaping
Of a horrible sowing
And a child born without love
Without knowing
Just innocent
Now sleeping
Never crying
Never dreaming
Waiting for the day
That he'd be wanted

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