Deep down, you're left with a strand of hope,

Overweighted with several theories,

Theories of "how-to" and "when to".

When the prayer kick starts for money, 

You lost yourself praying hard for a baby, 

Just one at least, yes, one and only. 

With tears, you lie for every of his seed,

To fill you up and bless you eggs,

You're just as good as a doctor in pregnancy calculations. 

With grief, you keep checking for a line, 

And see if there's any hope for a bump, 

But yet, you're just here, still trying. 

Wipe your tears, 

Raise your chin, 

Stay positive, 

For you'll conceive and experience joy again.