She was eighteen,
and pregnant,
Soon to be a single parent,
lost in transition from high school,
to parenthood,
Hopes and dreams take a step back,
to make room for,
diapers and sleepless nights,
endless cries,
caught in the shadow,
of what could have been a better life,
trapped inside,
no sunlight,
the only place to hide,
is in her daydreaming mind on the welfare line………….
Hospital bills,
outweigh the cheap thrill,
of looking your newborn in his eyes,
No time for regret,
no chance to rewind,
the five minutes it took to make him,
can’t compare to the years it’ll take to save him,
Label him a misfit now and save your calculations,
You don’t need to a doctor to tell you,
a baby raised by a child,
probably won’t make it………….
He who has no purpose for life
resonates that emptiness by doing nothing right,
the choice was him or the night,
so she chose the money raking
condom breaking
orgasm faking
soul taking
fatherless newborn making
job that brought little David into her world,
she was hoping for a girl…………
He was cursed at birth
Didn’t stand a chance on this earth,
How will he make it as a man,
if he couldn’t make it as a baby?
Everyone else will ignore him,
I’ll let him use my ears as an open forum
And be sure to tell him,
“Good luck, davey…….…”
