Poor Infant - Tilt

I refuse

Refuse to weaken my will

Adhered here glue to these neglected sheets

Stranded on

Abandoned on my own two feet

Tenants of

Occupants of indifferent streets

Oh poor infant

You only took an instant

But now you’re soaking in it

You’re in for quite a ride

My poor little

Flopping on the griddle

Still bloody

In the middle

Conjuring

Coaxing out my bravest face

Suffer through

Careen through rooms of tired eyes

Whining high

Like an engine fed on spite

Too much to take

Too much luck

I dump the clutch every time

Through the womb

Into this mess with me

It was no accident

I had to have some company

Through the membrane

Out you came

Reluctantly sure

I bore you selflessly

But I had to have some company

Company company company