Three
Lost,
and no, it was never meant to be.
There was no good reason
and nothing will ever
make it better.
I have to deal-
of course: what else is there to do?
I can not wallow,
but I caan
and will
never
forget.
Remembering hurts;
so much pain:
physical,
mental,
emotional.
All pained
by the loss of you three.
I named you,
carried you,
for three,
five,
seven weeks
of swollen breasts
and confused mind-
just to lose.
You were lost,
and it will never be OK.,
or fair,
or meant to be.
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