Abort Poem by Sarah Hardin
Abort
After the death of love
little is left but regret
sometimes
hate and loathing
the infliction of one burdened
with unjustice
The pull and yank of it
is never easy
struggling, clinging to your insides
until one final act or word
aborts what
would of
should of
been a beautiful creature.
That is what is left,
a dead and rotten thing
that stinks up everything
until you learn
to forgive and clean house
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4/25/2024 6:16:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
