To My Unborn Son

old memories rise slowly

to the surface,

oozing from broken sores

that never heal,

painful thoughts long forgotten,

return, along with the realization

of just what was done,

on that day so long ago,

choices made in the

blink of an eye,

decisions decided;

which will last a lifetime;

looking at my daughters,

I think;

‘he could have been like them,

proud and strong,

a warrior facing life,

confident and unafraid,

or he could have been

plain and ordinary;’

either way, he would have been

a brother,

he would have been

a son,

but most of all,

he would have been

loved;

if only he’d been

given a chance.

.

.