Unborn Child Poem by Patti Masterman

Unborn child, rocking in safe harbor,
Counting the days of his corded life:
Doesn't know he's being expelled
From the nearest paradise on earth;
Warm garden, of his mother's Eden-
Knows nothing of screaming,
Guns, or endless weeping.

Unborn child, better to be born dead
Or miscarried, the first trimester
Before all the days of your life arrive;
Better to remain ignorant
Of what on earth's called being alive;
Mother's caresses can't tide the day,
Such a shame, that you cannot stay-

But even inside, you're not safe.