You don't know what to do
Your mind is every where but where you need it to be
What if it isn't his
Will it be a nice carriage
How can you tell if you're pregnant
Why is he upset
What will I do about school
Why can't I just handle things on my own
On and on the questions keep coming in
Until suddenly you find yourself crying for the lose of the child
That never will be
He/She was a miscarriage and you can't stand to live
So you just sit there not moving
Until you start to cry again
Then the last question comes
Why did it have to be me
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