by McCollonough Ceili
(Nashville, TN and Ireland)
A five month fetus now all bone,
Cuddled up in it's secret home.
Where is the chance of life you did not find?
Buried in the sands of time?
Who would you have been? What would you have done?
Answers held by no one.
Holding your skeleton in my hands,
wondering had this all been planned.
Were you never supposed to be born?
To live a life now old and worn?
Questions that swirl crazy in my mind,
As I see you one last time.
Goodnight wee one sweet dreams.
Maybe one day we shall meet.
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