I miss being a mother
People are surprised when I say this
Peering into the eyes of a 14-year-old as they mutter the words of miscarried
I do though, miss caring for one younger than me.
When I talk about it, people wonder if I carried
In the barren womb that lay under my rounded belly.
It’s somewhat symbolic to me, I did have children,
Many of them actually, Myself and the toddlers and tykes
that come and go in my short life.
I was burdened with the loss of something that carried a big part of me
Flushed down the toilet, I had to care for others and I saw myself in them
I miss my little children
I miss carrying my child, though not birthed of me
I know they were not much younger, but they were mine
I miss being a mother
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