Too Good To Be Born

To good to be born here soon.
Safe in my mother's womb.
Dark and warm and floating and
Connected as one with her.

No reason to leave this
Safety and warmth and
Love and all the goodness
In here, it's all so nice.

I'm supposed to be born,
It's almost time, I'm nearly term
Now at 37 weeks. Maybe
It's not supposed to be?

They're going to do everything
They possibly can to bring
Me from this world into theirs.
In the end, it's not up to them.

All their efforts and energies and
Hopes and prayers for naught.
No amount of skill, experience, discipline,
Or anything will bring me.

I am not to be, not there anyway.