A Cry
Now I wish
...that the chuckles
of a child had graced my home...
...that the feet of a tot
had drummed my floor...
...that the laughter
of an innocent had filled my air...
Now as I wither away
I remember the house
I toiled to build
And tilled to make a home...
But my barren body
Made not my sensible house
The home of any tot...
Now I wish...
...that I was pregnant
in the morning
and it miscarries at night...
For this is not my doing
But a work
Of the cruel friend...
...fate!
Waste of youth
I did not!
Hope I hung unto
Home after home
Place after place...
Yet...
Never did it come for once!
Still... As I wither on
I wish I have a kid
To till my toils...
But...
As I go
None will weep for me...
And all ends
In a waste.....
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