There's not much I can love anymore
but this might be something I can rethink.
This little soft thing in my hands
I dont know what this feeling is but if
I had more feelings more often I would
know what this is.

  
These little eyes weeping
I don’t know what I did
I created something that is meant to live.
Now I know what the meaning of the word
beautiful means. This tiny thing in my hands
it is looking at me without recognition which
means that I have a lot to share.

They ask me to if I can leave the operation room,
with so much confusion in my mind I keep repeating
the words in my head I and it finally processes through my
brain and the words come from my lips “My Son” I repeat
again and again now I know what I did.