I mourn for our our future.
The death of our dreams
And what our life should be.
A black veil conceals the wedding aisle,
A closed casket suffocates the giggles of our unborn kids.
Names picked out;
Beginning, middle, and end
All wash away written in the sand.
I mourn for our future
Because that is no longer the one we have to look forward to.
They say a pregnant woman’s child comes out like the person she most hates.
With superstition and genetic’s partnership far from my corner I can’t help but say,
Three weddings and funeral… I’d rather have no wedding, yet a funeral for a future that no longer awaits.