Death of an Unborn Child
 

I wish I could have seen you, held you, kissed you.
Known the colour of your eyes.
Instead, you are a ghost, haunting my mind,
With sadness and self-loathing.

It is futile now to tell you, the decision was not mine.
But the sense of waste, of uselessness,
Will not disappear.
There is no going back, no rebirth or reprieve.

You were robbed of life, love, a future.
We, who should have cared, never dared.
Too afraid of our own responsibilities.
You were not spared.

How can I say I am sorry? Forgiveness,
Can only be imaginary, or at best shallow.
What price a life?
If only we had known, we would not have loved.