Cradle

 Cradle rocks

that bough that breaks

and takes the very sound it makes

into my heart, my body aches

I retch and sketch a canvas blank

the bough, alas, is broken

Cradle rocks

and mocks my sleep

so long that song, a staircase deep

and yet I lie here counting sheep

I creep and leap up to my feet

But no child has awoken

Cradle rocks

but cradles' still

it was because a womb should fill

unless it be a higher will

that she's not fit; her womb would kill

to life it will not open

Cradle rocks

and children breathe

they are the future i believe

and so, no future i conceive

it is quite lonely to seethe and grieve

a life that could not be