A Woman
A woman,
With her little baby, little in any age,
Her dear little, tinny baby,
A baby, a child, a piece of her,
Dies.
She loses her sweetheart baby.
She is not a mother any more, to that baby.
What on earth can patch her bleeding?
Who can babysit her pain?
I don’t know you, or your baby,
Why do you visit me in my imagination during day?
Why do you visit me in my dreams during night?
Why do you picture your pain on my mind?
Why do you look for a place for your pain in my heart?
Why do I know your pain?
How can I know your pain?
I am sorry, I cannot help you,
I have only my tears to share,
Take it, they are all yours.