Thursday, September 18, 2003

A Letter To My First ‘Un’Born Child

A Letter To My First ‘Un’Born Child
(Death Date: May 16, 1998)

I feel the need to explain to you the reason you’re not here
Mainly because at 23, I was immature, unstable and full of fear

It’s not that I didn’t love you, I know that now, as I shed a tear

It’s just that at the time, when you were alive
I allowed that love to be conquered by fear

Fear that I couldn’t support you, and that you and I would struggle
Fear of being a statistic; another single black mother
Fear that I had made a mistake, in the father that I had chosen
He was only 19 at the time, with no direction, and no focus
Fear that I would become a failure and all my dreams would be deferred
Fear that I would be a terrible mother for you… the last thing I wanted in this world

I wasn’t ready to be a mother, I wish that wasn’t the case
And I didn’t want to resent you, or throw that up in your face

Despite it all, I know now that you deserved to live
You also deserved more, than two young adults had to give

You deserved the chance to exist, for more than 7 weeks
To be loved, to be cherished, to breathe, to cry, and speak

If I could turn back the hands of time, of course I’d change that fate
Then I would get a chance to know you, hold you, and kiss your little face

You were God’s gift to me, because He knew what I didn’t at the time
That you were the love I needed, that you would mature me, this now I realize

I miss you my child, I forfeited our chance and what we could have had
But how can you miss what you never had some say, I don’t know
but I miss you really bad

I could never forget you, I’m haunted by the memory of that day
The appointment, the doctors, the room, and the sound of the machine
that took your life away

I’m ashamed of what I did to you…I’ll never forgive myself
I wish that I would have been stronger for you
and understood the value of life itself

This is what I thought you deserved to know, about your Mom and the choice she made
Although young, your Dad did want you, and never thought of you as an accident, nor a mistake

You are my first unborn child, my regret, my tears, my biggest fault
I’ll love and nurture your spirit forever, inside the womb of my heart


Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2003. All Rights Reserved.

Wednesday, September 17, 2003


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On the ER bed she lays
Vision of a harsh life appears and fades

Pretty and she knows it
Body ahead of her age

Grown men calling her name
Childhood passed up, sex at an early age

Moms is worried, ain’t seen her in a week
Try’s to gain control, but got a job to keep

No more school, drops out in the eighth
Listens to no one… sex for money points the way

Mom’s is thru, done all she can do
puts her out at 15, the streets she turns to

Now, it’s dope to cope
A drink to think
Fuck her or him to eat
Rob those who trust easily to keep
 herself high

so she don’t cry
Because the streets they have no love

Pimp seeks her out, to fatten his roll
Wines her and dines her, then takes control
Bad advice from victims in the life
Now she pro hoe strolls…

Tracks in her arms, multiply to deal with the real

Barely 80 lbs. now, drug life takes its toll
Pimp beats her ass, this time breaks her nose

Encourages her to make more dough for sex with no hat
Bumps on her cat, Herpes Simplex 2, no cure for that

High as a kite, late Friday night
Little too much this time…something don’t feel right

On the ER bed she lays
Vision of a harsh life appears and fades

Doctors and nurses hurry, doing all they can do 

ECG machine shows flat line…
She’s gone and her baby too

Tara S. Gause aka Poetic Goddess Tara Shenéa
© 2003. All Rights Reserved.
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