Babe,
You don't mind me calling you that?
I wish I can hold you in my arms
I wish that you can only see
that way that my heart
is
breaking.

How you mention
the way you care for someone else
and when you carelessly remind me
of the way
you lack to feel
for me.

I lost you
And
I can't get you back.

I'm sorry

A woman on a Donkey,
her Husband by her side;
Would soon bare a son,
who would one day save their lives.
~
They entered a small town,
seeking shelter at an Inn;
Yet there wasn't any room,
for this Babe who'd forgive sins.
~
The labor pains grew worse,
then the ones she'd felt before;
To a Manger they were led,
where she gave birth on the floor.
~
They gazed upon their child,
wrapped in swaddling clothes;
They knew He was the Christ,
for an Angel told them so.
~
God became a man,
the moment Christ was born;
What a blessed day that was,
what a glorious, new Morn.
~
His parents loved this child,
they did the best they could;
They watched Him as He played,
they watched Him nailed to wood.
~
They saw Him in the Manger,
they saw Him on that tree;
They both lived for their Son,
He lived to set them free.

After bearing down with all the strength of Venus,
Clenching her jaw as she wrangled with loud cries,
Thoughts and memories of battle vanish,
Drifting away with each stroke of the new bundle.

Choking back tears as he kisses below her crown,
Her forehead speckled with manifestations of struggle,
Licking his lips he tastes maternal salt,
Reaching to clutch the delicate fruit of her labour.