The children were
In the sperm
But not one
Ever came
To ruddy flesh and blood
Though millions marched
The children remained
Ghosts
Took not bones nor
Skeleton
Nor flesh
Nor skin
Nor cried
To gladden with that cry
A father’s heart
No, that heart
Remained as now
A lacerated heart
Laceration with every month
Or so
One after the other
Laceration on laceration
Made
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