No use in crying over spilt milk
No reason to dwell on old wounds
Pain is as fleeting as anything else
It will leave one day soon
They argue on their jar
Whether it’s half empty or full
While I hold shards of shattered glass
As blood around me pools
I’ve lost everything I loved
Denied the one thing I wanted
I am never to be whole
By my defect I am ever haunted
Some tell me I am lucky
To never worry of sickness or scares
Yet always I beg for a family
Every night in my weeping prayers
I was ruined before birth
Destroyed by cruel genetic chance
I cannot stand before Fate
It skewers me like a lance
I must stop this worthless mourning
And put on a passive smile
What does it matter if I’m broken?
That I’ll never have a child?
-
Author:
Thomasine Dye (
Offline) - Published: May 26th, 2022 02:41
- Category: Sad
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
poignant and heart wrenchingly, relatable
there are categories of fate
in our worth, if we compare
then 'We' lose;
best to just balance, on our thimbles
of opportunity
count our blessings, knowing
it could have been a lot, worse
just
as It Should Have Been Much, Better!
onwards
let's not squander, what little mercy
we've been afforded, dear Poet
stay strong!
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