Dandelion

today i mourn an unborn childhe’d have my wordsand your many-layered smilehe’d carry an entire village in his headand wear a slew of medals across his strong chestmy child would walk mountains with particular easeand words and music will make his special feastand he’d like to argue but also to stay calmand when he’d hug you, you’d always stay warmyes, my child he’d have stars in his eyesand a spirit that never says dieand a moodiness that’s yours as much as it’s mineand a constant craving for the simple lifemaybe he’d writeno, he absolutely willseeing what brought us togetherwords will enthral himkeep him stillah that child of minewould change youin so many waysand so todayi mourn my unborn childand also, perhaps, my unborn life.