A poem to my baby

A poem to my baby,
The one I long to hold,
The phoetus in my womb,
Who is fated to be sold,

To be raised by a stranger,
My sweet child sent away,
Oh, how I long to touch you,
To embrace you through the day,

How I long to keep you,
To raise you as my own,
But ever since conception,
Your cruel future has been known,

And still, I consent to have you,
To bring you amidst this web of lies,
Because the one thing I can give you,
In my power still resides,

And with all my love I trust in you,
What has caused all this strife,
For the one gift I give to you, my child,
Is the gift of life.