A poem from the perspective of an aborted baby.
How did I get back here?
I thought I’d have more time.
Why was it so short?
I’d just begun my climb.
I didn’t know she wasn’t ready.
I didn’t know she wasn’t prepared.
We could’ve made the best of it.
Why was she so scared?
I didn’t want to be a nuisance.
But I didn’t want to die.
I wish I could go back.
Dear God, please can I?
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