I existed but for a short time;
In that time I heard no rhyme,
I smelled no rose,
In sand wiggled no toes.
If ever a song were sung,
I know not of one.
In a soft bed I’ve never lain;
I’ve never tasted a candy cane.
I experience nothing but death and pain,
But have no voice with which to complain.
All I know is I’m unwanted;
Why? By this question I am haunted.
I never meant to hurt my mother,
So why does she see me as a bother?
For her simple convenience I have to die,
And never see the morning sky.
Since I had no defender, I couldn’t fight,
And so lifted my face to see no light.
My life was short. My life was terse,
Because my mother proclaimed a curse,
On me for what I could not help.
When death came upon me I gave a yelp!
A silent scream over the pain,
Of what I’ll never find words to explain.
My life was full. My life was real.
My heart beat hard and I could feel.
I was just as alive and real as you,
Yet me you kill then boast of the good deeds you do.
I existed fully alive for a while,
But then was killed; supposedly with style.