The Crying Baby

It's as if the sun had claws, and dug them
Deeply into me, as if the air itself
Was poison.  How that god-damned
Baby cries!  Is there no way to shut
Her up, to tell her that that buzz-saw sound
She makes makes even family members
Into lifelong enemies?  A spoiled child
Turns the cosmos into something close
To hell, and I, deficient in compassion,
Have to move away.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 37 times
Written on 2022-11-08 at 03:05

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
The child will grow and you will have moved away. Looks like no win-win there.