The weeks and months we spent were lost in time.
The past became the day’s goodbye.
Visions of us misplaced to die.
You left for war at the drop of a dime.
I tried to let the memories fly by.
But that isn’t possible when I’m carrying your child.
My thoughts have gone a little bit wild.
I know I can’t say goodbye.
What we shared was always special, never to be known by the others.
I can only imagine the scorn we’ll face.
Looked down upon by the ones we knew just because of our colors.
Should I wish I can erase what had taken place?
Who am I to kid when I want the child like no other?
I think its best if I keep this unseen, in a hidden place.