Ache

It's never going to happen.
We've been suckered into thinking 
That a baby will arrive 
At or around a particular date, 
When in fact there is no baby. 
There is only the idea of a baby. 
Always and ever the idea, 
But never the reality. 

We will wait for him 
And hope for him, 
Take walks and talk of him. 
We have gathered up clothes 
And items to testify. 
But they are still clean 
And there is no smell of baby on them. 

We will be prepared to love, 
But never have the chance 
To hold, to kiss, to dote, to gaze. 

My heart is starting to ache.