I feel Barren
I feel barren, hollow, my belly an empty vessel under a broken heart
Where once was life cries a soul torn apart.
My hand rests there where you should have been
and I silently stifle a heartrending scream.
I see Mother Nature, rejuvenate once more
with the sickening ease of a talented whore.
I want to throw stones, at the ducks and their young
I am jealous, and ugly, I’ve lost
who I am.
I don’t like this person, bitter and sad,
But I feel so cheated, I feel so HAD.
Why make me pregnant, just to take it away
Is it some kind of joke, I ask as I pray.
But who is to say
Why not me?
Would it help, if I knew
what the future will be.
London 1992, copyright Lysanne Sizoo
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