I spent the night burying babies.
It was easy cause their bodies are so small.
My feet were bare, and the grass felt like a wet
I hear the crickets strumming their legs, and
it seems to mock the blackness of this foul night.
If I should feel something;
I know I should be crying...
but I just keep my pace.
Some of them still have faces...shapeless or crushed.
They don't seem to have tears...they don't seem to have eyes.
I should be feeling so sick...
I should have trembling hands,
But I just keep digging the holes...
and covering all my sins.