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Friday, March 4, 2016

Baby Song



From the private ease of Mothers womb
I fall into the lighted room

Why don’t they simply put me back
where it is warm and wet and black?

But one thing follows on another
things were different inside Mother

Padded and jolly I would ride
the perfect comfort of her inside

They truck me in a rustling bed

I lie there, raging, small and red

I may sleep soon, I may forget
But I wont forget that I regret

A rain of blood poured round her womb
But all time roars outside this room

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