By ACE8.6

I heard a baby cry today
while I was walking through the park.
The cry was not to get her way
It was strong, insistent, and dark
Was she too hot from the sun’s bright ray?
Was she afraid of the dog’s bark?
Was she demanding she be allowed to play
in the song of the Meadowlark?
This baby cried not for want
This baby cried to warn
And I became the confidant
Of this child who was barely born
She now has mountains to surmount
And we — so much to mourn