Foetal Thoughts

Foetal Thoughts

In the chamber of the one who is to give me birth,

Curl I like a ball brooding over my call to the earth

Wherein The Maker saw fit to place me. 

Thinking of all the sad tales told by my rejected little mates;

Those who would have been but rushed back with stories of sadness and hate,

I should be glad to be purged out like a pile of blood.

The expectants make a fuss at my coming

One could think the J-man was coming.

This brooding stance I have taken

To seek out the nuances surrounding my cage

I hope much answers would be given 

As I go away fulfilled in old age 

But the fussing of the expectants at my coming I look upon with worry

Will my stay mirror the tears of my tell-tale mates?

Will it revive my thoughts of woeful ills?

Nonye Anyichie