I hear you begging me to help you.
I hear your tiny voices in my head, pleading with me to hold on to you.
But, alas, this is a battle that I cannot win.
No one can hear your small cries, but me.
Yet so silent, but so loud in my ear.
Oh, how it pains me to listen to your cry’s, but I can do nothing to save you.
My womb cries out in anguish, for she cannot hold what she was made to hold.
My stomach turns in to knots as you let out your last war cry,” Help Me mommy, I can’t hold on much longer.”
My son’s, the fruit of my broken womb.
I have failed you, each of you I have failed.
I felt you moving, doing your best to let me know that you are there.
I fought just as hard, but my fight was not strong enough.
It broke my heart to listen to your cries, cries from my womb.
Cry’s that slowly vanished as each of you slipped off into eternal rest.
Cry’s from my womb, a sound I can never erase from my memory.
Cry’s from my womb.