I’m not a mother
I don’t play one on TV
Hope can kiss my ass
Mother’s day is here
With so much celebration
For what I don’t have
High temp in morning
No symptoms to speak of, yet
Strange pains down below
Fat bloated ov’ries
So sore, want to puncture them
Let that pressure out
Worse yet, husband’s hope
Don’t want to disappoint him
He loves me so much
Constant dialogue
Argue with myself, pro, con
Hopes raise then crash down
Coughing phlegm for days
Snotty nose and the sore throat
Make me unhappy
Ain’t life just peachy?
Smile wide for the outsiders
Is it bedtime yet?
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1 comment:
Beaut. I feel your pain. Especially the bloated ovaries pain.
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