What does one do when their womb is dead?
You desire a child, as all your kind do.
The want is even greater than ours, we little apes.
Nothing can grow here there though.
Human or kin, nothing can grow in me.

There are others, some might say.
Another can bear your son into my world.
Others instead bring up the orphans.
We could take in a homeless human.
Neither is what I want though, or you.

So what do I do when my womb is dead?
I can see your form at last.
Your voice I can hear too, indistinct as it is.
There is still so much ground to tread though.
You are still so far from me.

And you always will be.