Dead on arrival

Her eyes were watery as she gasped for air
she'd only just arrived, it wasn't fair
her pinkish skin turned to blue
no one could save her, there was nothing they could do
i suppose it is to be expected of a baby so premature
she was seriously undeveloped, there was no cure
the air in her lungs seemed to be escaping from a hole
but air was not the only thing escaping- so was her soul
this poor little creature just fighting to live
but the gift of life no one could give
they watched as she went limp, her body so small
this would be a day remembered by all
her twig-like fingers curled into the palm of her hand
her time was up, the hour-glass had run out of sand
her bloodshot eyes rolled into the back of her head
there she lay so innocently upon her deathbed

all rights reserved, © Laurène Ferguson 2005