Unborn Babies
They were shadows
Singing like the sparrows,
They threw some men into sorrows
because they were buried in bottomless burrows.
Dreams cooked in the belly of strains and pains
Stewed and steamed to feed the hungry,
Dreams bigger than life, squeezed into brains
They could have been born to bless all and sundry.
The sincere shadows died at noonday
When the clouds of a cursed culture covered the blue skies,
They went into the grave with the mothers that housed them;
dreams with clear sights and sounds turned to sighing spies.
There were shadows, spirited shadows
The unborn babies in the bellies of the best brains;
They were sparrows, splashy sparrows,
Learning to sing and soar but ended in pains.
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