by henry onunyere
Published on: Jan 7, 2009
Topic:
Type: Poetry

A grieving mother walk in pain
her heartbeat raise with seconds,
to the quack doctor she sold her soul.
From a distance we watch and pray,
for the tender child yet unborn.

The time of labor came with pain
it wasn't her first not the second,
but much pain she bear for this soul.
still all we do was watch and pray,
for the beautiful child yet unborn.

Lack of ante-natal cause more pain
as the groaning mother push with seconds,
bringing to earth a precious soul.
But still in our hearts we watch and pray,
wishing this child was still unborn.

Our joy was dash by so much pain
because a life was lost that very second,
lying lifeless was this precious soul.
The we wonder as we watch and pray,
if this gracious gift was still unborn.

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