Sitting on a cold, hard bench,
Trying to ignore the overpowering stench.
Hands clenched and knuckles white,
Taking a breath took all her might.
Down her cheeks flow a string of tears,
That would only grow over the years.
She gets up and walks away,
Thinking it will all be over today.
But later on in life,
The pain is still fresh and adding to her strife.
The thought of her mistake,
Only brings sorrow and away her joy does take.
Every moment she breathes, she regrets that day,
Wishing with all her heart she did stay.
Every day she lives with the pain,
And her tears flow like showers of rain.
They had reassured her of no pain,
But to this day it has left a stain.
It was almost painless and very fast,
She left that day thinking it was all past.
But she was very wrong,
And she seemed to know it all along.
She wished she could go back,
Erase her sin and throw it in a sack.
She knew she had killed her little child,
And the thought on top of her piled.
Before it took its first tiny breath,
She stopped its life; bringing it death.
The pain of it al never went away,
She lives with the awful thought to this day.
She sits down feeling queasy in her middle,
The clean whiteness brings relief but only a little.
The smell of it all is about to drive her away,
When her number is called and she walks away.
As she walks away, she thinks itís the answer,
Not knowing till itís done, the pain it will cause her.
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