At a tired two o' clock in the morning
Hope must be forced into the dark room
Like a small spluttering candle struggling to breath
Sobbing words are forgiven
At this eye rubbing time
The stomach acid feeling of surrender
Inevitable, showing how we are inextricably linked we are
Hope must be pulled from the deepest body part
a brutal caesarean bringing new life
This private mourning
Before the morning
Is ours alone to hold with new cries
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