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Lala Oct 2019
She is the creator; created you with her blood.
She celebrated the hell of pain as your birth.
And her eyes seen your heart first before anyone in this world.
She is your mother❤️.

Her womb became your light for almost a year
And she made you as her own eyes.
The only women loved you before you see this world.
She is your mother❤️.

She welcomed your mistakes with open arms.
Her hair and skin grown older she stood their holding a stick still loving you as the same she took you first in her arms.

Now waiting to see this world through your eyes.
She is your mother ❤️.
Lisa Sep 2019
Love never said i love you back
All it ever did was stab me im the back
Seeing others happy with being in love made me feel like i was missing out on something all i was missing out on was lies,hugs,kisses
Rose Amberlyn Sep 2019
The girl I once was,
Is gone.
The body I once had,
No more.
The understanding I once had,
Has grown.
The heart I once had,
Beats louder.
The skin I once had,
Is softer.

I am brand new,
In this old body.
When a baby is born,
So is a mother.
Brendon S Sawyer Sep 2019
This kind of beautiful, I’ve never seen her wear,
For tonight, she glows of a hundred moonlights;
Pain has never looked so welcomed,
Screams have never sounded so melodic;

With each melody, I watch, as stray tears appear from the corner of her eyelids,
I can’t help but be mesmerized, as each one traces a path across her rosy cheeks;
I imagine them as dancers,
so elegant and choreographed;

These butterflies; I’ve never felt them before,
And my heart pounds like a bass drum on every beat;
Nothing can relax me,
Nor do I want it to;

She rings out one final harmony just before another is heard,
A quick turn bares the gift of my baby girl;
A slow and returned glance bares relief to my world,
Our three cries, synchronized — so beautifully merged;

As I lay with them both,
I feel completeness arrive;
For tonight, it is known that,
My world just gave me my life.

Brendon S. Sawyer
2019
The birth of a first born child. From a perspective that of the father
nobody Sep 2019
it’ll be autumn and halloween in no time. this cooler weather is more my style, but not good for the chemicals in my brain. gloomy, cloudy days seem fitting, when really they’re lethal days if you’re not careful. still, when the sun peeks out and warms my skin i remember the summer days of my childhood which reminds me that the seasons change and that if there is discomfort or pain, it won’t last forever. my sister had a baby, my nephew. i was half as far along as her, before i lost mine. baby - i hope you come back to me. it’s crazy how life punches you in the gut and doesn’t offer you a single remedy. you must find your own way, and salve your own wounds. crazy how i say your name every day, but you’ll never come back, i’ll never see you again. or smell you, or be held by you. why do i have a hard time saying goodbye? maybe because i never got to say goodbye, or see you for a last time. maybe because i’m a bona fide baby.
anyway.
9 - 9 -  19
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