These lines never pass the embryonic stage.
They never formed limbs to walk off
on their own.
They never found a mouth to speak up loudly
and be heard.
They don’t even show, this early on.
So, nobody missing them.
You can’t miss what never had a start.

Yet each one has a beating heart.
No bigger than a pixel.
A light united, only if it was wishful.
If they were nourished by the father,
and given love to form I am sure
they would turn into their own.

I’ve given them all I can.
I labored hours every morning, pouring my
heart and soul into each one of them.
I spread the exciting news to everyone.
I’ve crossed my fingers and prayed that one of them
would be born.

One of them would have a name,
a name that everyone knew and called.
But as soon as the news goes out
I am left holding the empty sac of dreams.
Because this early on most don't recognize
they ever existed -
just as they don't recognize me as their mother.
And to give of yourself with nothing to show
is the worse feeling of all.