A Poem for the unwanted

 

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.”

  — Ps 139:13 (NIV)

As if I am out of purpose,

Why do I smell 

The reek of death?

When my maker said I matter 

Why do my created brain 

Say I will shatter? 

You knew me as a zygot 

You called me by my name then.

And if you say I am loved 

I must truly be needed.