I clutch the still-born to ,my chest with one weathered hand,
The other I use to fight off the doctors who are trying to take my baby from me.
I charge towards the window in a bid to escape.
"Stop him!" they cry as I throw myself at the window,
Shielding my baby from the inevitable shards.
Using my large frame, I manage to pierce the glass,
And fall two storeys,
Landing on my back,
Shattering my spine,
I try to move,
But know that I can't.
"Don't worry," I tell my silent baby,
As I feel my life ebbing away,
"I'll look after you..."