Womb

It was forty-three years ago today when I left your womb. Your death has brought about tears, despair and gloom. Usually pregnancies last nine months but you had a longer wait. You carried me for ten months, I was a month late. From the day I was born until the day you died, we shared a special bond. You were always there for me and I'm still unhappy because you're gone. You didn't deserve to suffer the way you did, what a horrible fate. The doctors did all they could but you went to the hospital too late. I didn't know what I had until I lost it and I lost you too soon. It was forty-three years ago today when I left your womb. [Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who gave birth to me 43 years ago today.]