We write the stories
of our lives between
the bookends
of birth and death
They stay on the shelf
as long as we live
and then go in
the remainder bin
after we die.
No one buys them
and the paper’s recycled
to print the stories
of millions of people
yet to be born
except for the stories
that are never told.
They are the stories
Planned Parenthood sells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem