A Miscarriage of Justice Times Two

What can this mean you ask?

I will take you to task.

You see a miscarriage I had.

Of justice times two is bad.


Hidden away nice and neat,

In my cerebral cortex.

Filed and organized,

No emotion, was I going to show.


Robot-like logic has offered,

Much comfort and protected

Or, so I thought.

Never knew what prickly thorns I had grown.


Around the year of 98,

Cramping bloody murder;

Went to the clinic,

My memory is like a drunk of slurry words.


Either two weeks pregnant!

Could’ve been two weeks late!

Meaning maybe 4 weeks pregnant.

Basically boiling down to between 2 to 6 weeks pregnant.


Never knew.

Had a clue,

Pregnant, I was,

Or, could have been.


You see a mother of a 15 month old,

Working, pursuing a Master’s,

Doing all the housework,

Driving, caring for one with autism, and other family.


Worn out!

Sworn to get out!

Walked day to day,

Cold robot fashion.


Then to find out,
Lost a child,

One of her greatest wants!

From God, almost completely she turned.


A living being,

I had done nothing so wrong.

Told not a soul.

But mad as hell.


Good reason not to tell.

A husband, ass at the time.

Grown up some since,

Quite a bit, actually.


Deny me if you must,

A boy it was.

Parker Nelson, heaven’s my next step.

Short time we had, but we’ll catch up.


Parker Nelson Adcock,

now I understand.

Like your brother still to meet,

Taught me lots of things in life you have.


God forgive my anger.

Let us put it up on hangers.

Learn our lessons,

Turned to blessings.


A miscarriage of justice times two.

God now bends to win.

The devil’s evil is

Sent straight to hell.


Finally , the message!

God walks and is

With you all the ways

And days through you with love.

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