It's a Nothing
Curled like some fossilised
creature trapped in perpetual darkness
it suddenly moves as if prodded by an invisible finger;
it turns and stretches then settles back
into its apparent oblivion.
It seems unaware yet it hears,
it feels, and senses flashes of differing hues.
Often it feels pain,
its silent screams go unheard
Yet its restlessness is felt as
it lashes out in torment.
Mostly though it's content
in its sac, cosy with the lullaby,
lub dub, lub dub, lub dub;
the slushing and swishing of blood
through arterial byways.
gathering strength for the trauma of birth.
This one though is denied the wait,
the time to grow,
the time to know who it will be;
this one is unwanted,
it's sucked out and flushed away;
the suckers and the flushers never thinking
of the agony caused as they suck and flush…
It's not supposed to feel pain, to sense,
it's a nothing.