deepundergroundpoetry.com

a baby lost

see the calendar slip by,
fuck dates, days, hours and time,
the experience, adventure to a 15yo death,
fifteen means nothing and nothing's less
to a life full of sense and sound,
a baby dead, never born, never found
but to feel, to see, to love, to cry,
to find, to lose, to say goodbye.
living for hours, living for days,
no one has an age.
Written by ofthemountayne (otm)
Published
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