Baby J

By kreateatale

It was a Sunday,
She was induced in a manner
Painless as being stuck with a thousand knives.
Monday came,
Calm like a running stream returned.
Tuesday peeped,
Reinduction came with flames that dwarfed Sunday’s wrath.
‘Help me,’ she wailed.
‘Get it out of me.’
A symphony of pain and unabashed transparency.
Six-hours plus
And his cry tore through the womb.
My son,
My wife,
Me,
A new family.

––––––––––
“I have a gift and I must use it. I have a voice and I must be heard.” – the writer

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