Facebook is not our friend,
We scroll daily through scans,
Those first delicious pictures of their bundle of joy, once only shared by family;
nowadays published for all to see.
And every time,
left with just one thought, 
"Why is it not me?"

Facebook is not our friend.

Perhaps you have been pregnant, 
Known the feeling,
The weight of carrying the most precious cargo a woman can ever know,
But fate is a cruel and fickle foe, 
You watch the children of friends grow, 
Each year more beautiful, more bright
How can they know?

That you dream about those forgotten children of your own,
What could have been, how they could have grown,
What would have been different. 
Where would I be now? 
With my sons and daughters,
And again, I just don't understand why, 
I wish I believed they looked down on me from the sky.

I would have two boys and a girl, 
I imagine our house,
So bright, so alive
I would no longer be deprived
Of the  joy of watching them grow,
I hear their cries of joy, their tears and their fights..
Then it fades, this cruel vision of 

What mights, 

The reality is, when all is said,
all that grew inside me is dead,
I'm back in my flat,
here I am queen,
No socks to pick up 
nobody for whom I can clean
Every day I persevere, 

caught in my silent dream

Time is my trusted companion, 
he has never left my side
He reminds me daily,
it was my choice you died. 
The damage was done,
It can't be repaired,
The pain I feel when I see all these posts 
Well it can't be shared.

We must smile, we must coo, 
And not let a trace,

Of the anguish we feel

Tell on our face. 

Facebook is not our friend.