Читать книгу THE TIME CAPSULE - Norman Smith D. - Страница 19

A Cursed Womb

A white house and picket fence

Serves as a landmark in an affluent neighborhood.

No loitering on the streets

And no police walking the beat.

With flamingos, swans, and exotic fish

Parading in their pond

While peacocks stroll their manicured lawn,

With no children to play hide-and-seek

Among the well-pruned trees.

The bittersweet love their hearts can feel,

When with pleasure their eyes behold,

Children playing in glee.

Content and jolly, no fears or cares.

May angels their guardian be,

While their grieving hearts in constant plea

To open the portal of a cursed womb.

Two souls that needs to be a family

In a house they hope to be a home.

If only her womb could be blest

And bear them fruits of their own.

No giggling, shouting, screaming, or laughter.

No jeering, cheering, yelling, or applauding.

The voices of children are absent from the ears.

No sharing of joy on the well-manicured lawn

And the lonely golden retriever stand silent and still

With no children with which to play.

The cursed womb had reaped a spell

When first a fetus life the parents expelled

And locked the portal, no ins or out

And now an infertile womb, a deserted tomb.

Fancy cars in their driveway parked.

They fashioned rubies, diamonds, and cultured pearls.

Many precious jewels upon them are bestowed,

But a cursed barren womb never to be restored.