Little man,
I remeber a cold winter's day,
and cold, cold steel.
Tearing you from my womb.
Red faced, eyes shut tightly, fists clenched.
You screamed in protest,
struggling against the alien hands,
that demanded you leave the comforting liquid,
of your warm cocoon.
For nine-months I gave you sanctuary
to safely dream and sleep.
Now I weep,
my inadequate arms no longer able
to protect you.
No magic kisses to take away the pain.
The survival game has claimed you.
I watch you change from child to man,
and sorrow lines your face.
Did I give you the gift of life,
or damn you to the human race.