Legs spread, mind scattered
Organs decay, insides battered
The thought runs wild
“did it even ever matter?”

Blood pours, like wine
Ripe berries, already burst
“Childs joy was never mine"
Tears follow, a mother cursed

Blood fills the floor
Search begins for something more
Ripening fear begins to mild
Dire sorrow fills mothers core

Lifeless child, fresh of womb
A mistake, time has forgot
Too ripe, child now faces tomb
And a sorrow, mother lays distraught