Miscarriage

It was as if; we held a new born gift
but there were tears that stung inside
the uncorked purity but lost it's pop and fizz
sour taste, the tang that dents your pride
 
Acid vapour, the smell of hate it crept
tarnished rings worn, purity in doubt
 as fractured heart: under carpet swept
expectancy that withered with each flout  
 
"Whatever" just a meaningless defence
the loss of closeness, abandoned soft affection  
just alone in that lament
stillborn child delivered by C section  
 
( ashes of life)