You Need a New Mom
All through the night, in my dreams,
I hear you. I feel you.
deciding that you want to be born.
You will grow up someday.
I’ll push you out some way.
Now is time to break through my pores.
You’re here. My death I now fear.
I believe that you need a new mom.
Please stay. Your birth is my decay,
and I know that you need a new mom.
Keep moving on.
This week’s challenge: Write a bad poem (almost right enough to make you wince) about animal pregnancies.
I decided to explore the emotions of the Surinam Toad. Their eggs gestate in their skin until the babies decide to burst out. I figure that the best way to capture the eruption of life was through a bad parody of My Heart Will Go On.