Sweet Amy
One day old and still umbilicalShe recovers in my cleavage.
Thrown away as rubbish
Unaware she is a jewel.
I rush her to our magic place
To a mummy who cant count babies
After scents have been stroked upon her
She is happily adopted.
If you decide to throw newborns out
Please make sure they're dead first
Don't throw them out alive
To die in a plastic bag.
I've named her 34B.
No not really...
Her Sunday name is Amethyst
She is suckling as I type.
Poetry by jenks
Read 428 times
Written on 2009-07-22 at 23:29
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